


Once Upon A Time In The Forest

by Jacie



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Archery, Big Bang Challenge, Castles, Forests, M/M, Middle Ages, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4995775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacie/pseuds/Jacie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set in the middle ages (think Robin Hood-esque). At thirteen, young Tim McGee is given to Prince Anthony as a Page on his eighteenth birthday. After a few years, Tim has become Tony's most treasured companion and is with him when a band of robbers decide to kidnap Prince Anthony in the forest and hold him until his father pays a ransom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Page In Town

**Author's Note:**

> Warning:  
> Minor underage sexual situations - kissing, reference to hand jobs when Tim is 13. This is only for a chapter or two before he is in the 18-22 range.
> 
> Author Notes:  
> Many thanks my beta, Rose Malmaison for helping to whip this story into shape. I have, of course, messed with it since she has seen it. Any remaining errors are all my fault. Much appreciation to my artist, Banbury. I knew creating art for this story would be a challenge and was surprised the story was actually claimed for art. Banbury did an amazing job illustrating this story! I added the scroll chapter headers. Some chapter titles are from Robert Frost's poem, _Road Less Traveled_ , which has always been a favorite of mine.
> 
> Written for the 2015 NCIS Big Bang Challenge, hosted at the ncis_bang community on Live Journal.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

Young Timothy McGee was out working in a field with his stepfather when he saw a rider approaching. Shading his eyes, he looked over the fine horse. It had to be a royal courier. His stomach clenched. Sometimes the King demanded the young men of the area to go to war on his behalf. However, Tim was in no hurry to go into battle. His stepfather glared at him, seeing that he had stopped working. The boy pointed at the rider nearing the house.

“Come on, then. Let us see what message he brings,” said his stepfather.

Carrying his hoe along with him, Tim nodded and followed the older man back toward the house.

Tim’s mother waved at them when she saw them approaching the house. “Timothy has been summoned by the King!” she exclaimed excitedly.

For a moment, Tim thought his legs would give out. He had little proper training with a sword and shield, having learned only the basics from his stepfather, who had fought in many battles. How would he survive an actual war?

“What?” his stepfather asked. “There must be a mistake; he is only in his thirteenth year! He is too small to go into battle. Are they that desperate for soldiers?”

The boy watched as his mother ran to her husband and hugged him. “It is a great honor, William. Timothy has been summoned to become a page for Prince Anthony!” Cupping the boy’s cheek, she added, “Your father would have been so proud. We are so honored that you have been chosen.”

His stepfather stepped over to the messenger. “Is this true?”

“Yes. Prince Anthony is nearing his eighteenth birthday and his father wishes to surprise him with a page of his own. Until now, the Prince has been cared for by the royal nannies. Since he is now of age to travel on royal business, and into war, he requires a page to accompany him throughout his travels and care for his daily needs.”

Tim glanced at his parents and pondered about his future. He wondered why he had been chosen out of all the boys in the kingdom. Perhaps if he was only along to care for the Prince, he would remain at the encampment while the Prince rode into battles.

“Gather your things, Timothy,” urged his stepfather.

“I am to go now?”

The rider confirmed, “I am to bring you back to the castle at once.”

Tim nodded and raced into the cottage almost bumping into his younger sister, Sarah. 

“What is your rush, Tim?” she asked as she returned to her sewing.

“I have been summoned to the castle,” he replied breathlessly.

“You?” she said in disbelief. “I guess that proves that mother was correct when she said anything could happen.”

“I have been summoned by the King. I am to serve Prince Anthony as his page.”

He did not have much and really thought the clothing he wore in the fields would be burned once he reached the castle. He only took the clothes he was wearing and a heavy tunic in case it was cool on their trip back to the royal estate. He wondered how many days of travel it would take to reach their destination. He brushed a tender kiss on his sister’s forehead.

His mother hugged him tightly and thrust a package of cheese, bread and apples into his hands, along with a skin filled with milk. “Make us proud, Timothy,” she pleaded as she fussed with his hair. “This is such a great opportunity for you. Learn everything you can. Perhaps you will spend your life as a consultant to Prince Anthony. Would that not be something truly wonderful? One day he will be king. He can offer you a much better life than one of toiling in the fields.”

Tim nodded briskly and kissed her cheek. He was afraid he would begin crying if he attempted to speak.

“Do you know how to ride?” asked the messenger.

Tim shook his head.

The messenger rolled his eyes, then dismounted to assist Tim onto the second horse. “She is quite gentle. You need only relax and stay in the saddle. She will follow my horse.”

“Thank you,” he managed as he climbed into the saddle. “How am I to address you?”

The messenger smiled and patted his horse. “I am called Walter.”

“Thank you, Walter.”

Tim had only traveled a few miles from his home in his entire lifetime. As they rode, he kept turning back to wave at his family and farm, the only home he had ever known, as they faded into the distance. Only when they were out of sight did a tear slip down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly and faced forward, towards his destiny.

Before darkness shaded the sky, the pair stopped to camp. Walter built a small fire to keep them warm.

“Have you been away from your home before?” he asked.

“A few times. I have slept outside while hunting with my stepfather and we have gone to visit relatives from time to time.”

“You shall have a new life now,” said Walter.

“That is true, but how can I forget the life I leave behind? How am I to forget my family?”

“It is for the best. You must concentrate on pleasing the young Prince lest he demand your head on a platter.”

Rubbing his neck, Tim swallowed deeply. The first night, he had trouble falling asleep as he thought about what his new position would demand of him. He had never seen Prince Anthony in person, but had heard he was quite handsome. As the chill of the night increased, he pulled his heavier tunic around him like a cover.

Each day, as the sun set in the evening, and in the morning as the sun rose, Timothy would stare back down the road, toward his home, for a few minutes. “Do you think I will ever be allowed to see my family again?” he asked as they prepared to continue their journey.

Walter tightened the saddle on his horse. “Perhaps. If Prince Anthony is pleased with you, he may allow it.”

“Is he kind?”

The messenger nodded slowly. “Those who deal with him say he is kind and intelligent. They say he is fair in his dealings.”

The pair rode for two and a half days. Tim found himself sore from riding. While they rode, he concentrated on keeping himself in the saddle. When they stopped in the evenings to eat and camp, he questioned the messenger about life at the castle and about Prince Anthony.

Even from a distance, Tim could see the castle as they approached it. “It is so grand!” he said excitedly.

The messenger laughed. “It is cold, damp and drafty.”

“I have never seen such an extraordinary structure in all my days. It is splendid.” Tim’s thoughts strayed back to the small building his family called home. It did not compare in the least. He imagined the royal stalls of the stable were likely nicer than the cottage in which his family resided.

“We will ride to the stables first and drop off our mounts. It is the King’s wish that you spend the next month being trained in your duties. You are not to be seen by the Prince. Work hard and learn your tasks well. Next month is Prince Anthony’s eighteenth birthday. That is when the King will present you to his son.”

Tim nodded as he hoped his duties would not be too difficult and that the Prince was truly a reasonable man. Knowing the Prince could put him to death for any reason was quite an incentive to work hard to please him.

He was assigned to an instructor; an older knight named Sir Tobias Fornell. What was left of the man’s hair was graying, but he was physically in fine shape. “For the next month you will do for me what you will one day do for Prince Anthony,” the he began. “Anything he needs or desires, you are to provide or retrieve for him. That is your duty.”

Tim nodded as he stood in Fornell’s suite. 

“Prince Anthony’s chambers are far grander than my own. If he desires food or drink, you will retrieve it. You will draw water for his bath and assist him in bathing. You will help him dress and ensure that his clothing is clean and in good repair. You will accompany him to his lessons and help him study or practice. You will accompany him whenever he leaves the castle grounds. It is all quite simple, really.”

“Yes. I am to do whatever he needs.”

“Anything he asks of you.”

“Anything. I understand.”

“How old are you, boy?”

“Thirteen. I am to turn fourteen in November.”

“Very well, let the lessons begin. For now you will sleep in my chambers on that sleeping mat. It will be up to Prince Anthony to decide where you shall sleep once you are given to him.”

“Sir Tobias? May I ask a question?”

“If you must.”

“Will I ever see my family again?”

“That, I cannot say. There may come a day when the Prince will release you from your duties, but that is not likely. If he likes you, it is likely you will become one of his advisors when you are both older. If he does not like you, well, it is best not to think of that.”

“He can have my head on a platter. The royal messenger told me as much.”

Fornell came close and patted Tim’s shoulder. “It is best you do your job well and not give him a reason to want your head separated from your body.”

“What shall I call you?”

“You may address me as Sir Tobias. I am one of Prince Anthony’s instructors and a knight of King Anthony’s court. While you are in training, you are to go to the stables while I am instructing the Prince. He loves to ride, so you must learn to be comfortable in the saddle. You will also learn to handle a sword as you are expected to protect the Prince with your life.” Sir Tobias inspected the boy carefully. “You will not always be so small, one can only hope.”

Tim’s mind began to spin as he thought of what his mother had told him: to learn all that he could. He would soon learn to ride a horse and handle a sword properly. “Once I am with the Prince, what am I do while he is being instructed?”

“You will be at his side. As I have told you, you are expected to assist him in his studies. That will require that you are learning the same things. He has been training with a sword for years, but you will be his partner for practice. You must learn enough to present a challenge to him for your own sake.”

“He is years older than I am, and no doubt he is taller and stronger.”

“Sink or swim, young man.”

“What?”

“If you are thrown into a river, you have two choices: sink or swim. Give up or give it all you have. Do you have what it takes to succeed?”

After thinking over Fornell’s words for a moment, Tim responded, “I shall do my very best.”

“Good boy.”

Fornell woke early and stretched as he looked over the young apprentice on his sleeping mat. As he exercised slowly, warming up his muscles, he wondered if the boy truly had what it would take to survive within the castle walls. Shaking his head, he wondered why Tim had been chosen, over all the other young men in the kingdom, to serve as Prince Anthony’s page. 

After walking across the room, he kicked the boy’s foot. “Timothy. It is time to awaken. As a page, you are expected to rise before the Prince. By the time he awakens, you should have brought fresh water to his suite for him to splash his face, laid out his clothing and brought his morning meal.”

Sitting up quickly, Tim rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry. I am sorry. What should I do first?”

“Come. Follow me. I will show you where to draw water.”

Tim followed Fornell through the maze of hallways out into a courtyard where Fornell handed him a pitcher and demonstrated how to fill it with water from the well. “During the cold season, it would be best for you to awaken early enough to warm the water over a fire to take off the chill.”

“May I ask a question, Sir Tobias?”

“Certainly. This is the time to ask all the questions you may have. I am used to it. My former wife asked a lot of questions. Mostly, wondering where I was and why I had not acquired more money to buy her everything she desired,” he said, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of her memory.

“I am sorry. Has she died?”

“I wish. She took our daughter and married someone else. Did you have a question pertaining to your duties?”

“Yes. How am I to awaken before the Prince? How am I to awaken before you?”

“That is something I can teach you. It may take a bit of trial and error. The best alarm is your bladder. Are you known to wet the bedding?”

“No.”

“Good. Then a full bladder should awaken you. You should drink a glass of water before you go to bed.”

“My mother told us not to drink after dark.”

“She did not want you to awaken too early. You should try different amounts. If you awaken too early, try drinking less until you awaken at the proper time. Fortunately for you, Prince Anthony tends to sleep later than I do.”

Tim nodded quickly as he carried the full pitcher back through the maze of hallways to Fornell’s suite. Once there, Sir Tobias showed him a chalice and a bowl to fill and watched as he slowly poured the water.

“Prince Anthony will splash his face with water and will scrape off his whiskers. You shall also gather fresh herbs of his choosing so he may freshen his breath. During most seasons the herbs he prefers are plentiful in the royal gardens, although you can probably pick up what he needs from the kitchen.” 

Tim nodded and watched as Fornell demonstrated the morning ritual.

“What is the chalice of water for?”

Taking the chalice in his hand, Fornell lifted it to his lips. “Some men wake with a dry mouth. The chalice is for drinking and for rinsing his mouth after chewing the herbs. Once the prince has finished you will discard the water. The Prince also has a chamber pot which will need to be emptied and cleaned. You may use his discarded bathing water to clean the chamber pot. Many people dump the waste outside the windows, but when the weather is hot, the stench may come back into the chamber and it is not at all pleasant. You may also haul it out to the stable and dump the waste onto the manure pile.”

“Perhaps I could build a trough, to carry the waste away from the window,” Tim suggested.

“Learn your duties first, then we will see about improving them.”

Tim nodded his understanding and made a mental note to see if he could have a bucket to use for hauling the waste outside. His mind began spinning with plans to build a waste trough.

“You will also keep in mind the Prince’s schedule, and will lay out suitable clothing for him. He will most likely discuss such things with you the night before. You must learn the difference between the clothing he wears when he rides a horse, practices with the sword, addresses the King, attends a dance and so forth. He may have a particular outfit in mind for a certain event. It is best you keep this in mind when pulling his clothing from his wardrobe.”

“How am I to dress? I did not think my farming clothes would be suitable. This is all I have brought to wear.” Tim hung his head wondering why such a lowly farmhand was chosen to serve the Prince. His cheeks reddened as he thought of being seen in his attire by anyone in the castle, but especially the King and the Prince. He feared they would take it as an insult and punish him.

Stepping back, Fornell eyed the boy’s apparel. It was old, and dirty from working in the fields. “A trip to the royal tailor is in line, I believe. First, we will go to the kitchen. Another thing the Prince is likely to tell you at night, is whether he will be taking breakfast in his chambers or in the dining hall with the King.”

“I will be sure to ask his preference.”

“And remember it. Timothy, you must also keep in mind that any of the royals may change their mind at any given moment of the day. He may tell you one thing at night and change his mind the next morning. You must be flexible. Better yet, if you learn to read his body language and his moods, you may learn to know his wishes without asking. That is a talent worth having. It will save you much grief if you can learn to anticipate his desires.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Tim thought this seemingly simple job might actually be quite difficult. “I understand.”

“After breakfast, the Prince normally takes instruction. He is tutored in many things.”

“Horseback riding and sword fighting. I have much to learn to catch up.”

“It is more than that. He is taught archery and hand-to-hand combat as well. He also learns much from books. He is taught philosophy, military tactics, math, astrology, sciences, literature, languages, writing, and many other things.”

“Wow. He has a busy life.”

“And from here on out, you shall have a busy life as well. There are times Prince Anthony sits in court with his father. Once he turns eighteen, he shall be expected to do this more often. There are often great balls thrown in the castle, which he also attends. The Prince is rather fond of the royal balls and of drinking wine. Timothy, you will see many splendid things, but keep in mind that your duty is to serve the Prince.”

“When am I to find time to sleep?”

Fornell smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “You must learn to choose your moments. For instance, when Prince Anthony is being fitted for new clothing, you may be able to catch a brief nap. When he is in court with his father, you may ask if you may be excused. He may or may not agree.”

“What sort of person is Prince Anthony? Is he kind? Will he treat me well?”

Shrugging, Fornell divulged, “He is a kinder and more tolerant man than his father. However, he is young and does not bear the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. It is best to do your job. Befriend him, if you feel he is open to it. Most royals do not become close to those who wait on them, but it does happen. Especially at the age of Prince Anthony. If he takes a liking to you, he may be more forgiving of your shortcomings.” 

“I shall do my very best.”

“I must ask you this. Have you ever been taken by a man?”

“Taken? I do not understand.”

“Has a man ever had his cock inside of you?”

Stepping away slowly, Tim shook his head. “No. Never.”

“You have grown up on a farm. Certainly you have seen animals when they copulate?”

“I, um. I do not know.”

“It is a natural thing. I do not know whether or not Prince Anthony is still a virgin. However, the rumors are that he is not. He may awaken with his cock hard and needing attention. When I said you are to take care of all of his needs, I truly meant that you are to care for _all_ of his needs. He may or may not want you that way, but if he does, you do not have a choice. Understand?”

Tim swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the floor. “Yes,” he replied softly.

“Good. Let us go see the tailor. I will leave you with him while I give Prince Anthony his lesson today. You shall wait for me in the tailor’s suite.”

“Sir Tobias?”

“Yes?”

“What is it that you instruct Prince Anthony in?”

“Handling a sword, archery, battle tactics and geography. He has other instructors for his other subjects. He favors his physical lessons and horseback riding over anything else. Perhaps you can help him with his other studies.”

“I do know all the constellations and how they move across the sky.”

“Can you navigate a course using the stars?” asked Fornell.

“I have never tried.”

“That is a useful talent. The more useful you are, the less likely the Prince will think about having your head on a platter.”

“Yes, Sir Tobias. I understand.”

Tim spent a couple of hours with the tailor, being measured and fitted for several outfits. Having the tailor’s hands near his inseam made him uncomfortable. If he moved at all, the older man scolded him and told him to stop fidgeting. 

“As you will accompany Prince Anthony, you will require many outfits,” said the tailor. “You will need clothing to wear in his chamber, something to wear when he meets with the King, riding clothes and something to wear when attending balls. Your clothing will not be as grand as Prince Anthony’s, but we cannot have you dressing like a common farmhand.”

Tim nodded when the tailor spoke and followed his directions on how to stand and hold his arms for measurements. He did his best to remain still, no matter where the tailor placed his hands. When the measuring was done, Tim sat on a wooden stool and watched as the tailor went to work mumbling to himself and choosing different materials.

When Fornell returned, he shook Tim’s shoulder and spoke to the tailor, “Send word when he needs to return.”

“I shall, Sir Tobias.”

As they walked away, Tim asked, “Return, Sir Tobias? Why must I return?”

“For a final fitting. Our tailor is good at his craft, but it is always best to return for a final fitting. Afterward, you will have more fine clothing than you ever imagined you would have.”

Tim swallowed deeply. He wanted to ask if he could keep the clothing if he ever left the castle, but then he thought his position was likely to be a lifelong occupation. There may never come a day when he would be allowed to leave the castle freely.

For the next month, Fornell worked with Tim several hours a day. He had conferred with the other instructors on when Prince Anthony would be in his lessons. Times were worked out so Tim could receive some basic education without ever being seen by the Prince.

One night he looked at Fornell and asked, “May I write a letter to my family?”

“Are they literate?”

“Yes. My mother teaches reading and writing to any who are willing to learn. My stepfather was a soldier in King Anthony’s army before he settled down. I was told he had the King’s ear and a keen mind for battlefield tactics. My real father was killed in battle a few years ago,” Tim said sadly. “I still miss him dearly. My mother could not work the farm on her own. My stepfather was given the adjoining farm and they married a short time after they met.”

“Timothy, when you are with Prince Anthony it will serve you well to keep your words to a minimum.”

“Yes, I can do that. I am so sorry, Sir Tobias. I guess I talk too much when I am nervous.”

“There is parchment, ink and quills at my desk. You may write to your family. The next time King Anthony dispatches a messenger in that direction, I will have him deliver your letter.”

“Thank you!”

Knowing he would not have the opportunity to write to his family often, Tim sat and thought of all the things he wanted to tell them. Most of all, he wanted to assure his mother that he was safe and being treated well.

_My Dearest Mother,_

_I have been told that I will be presented to Prince Anthony on his eighteenth birthday. That date draws near and I am excited to think of the experiences I shall have at the Prince’s side. I have learned so many things thus far. My teacher, Sir Tobias Fornell, is one of Prince Anthony’s instructors. I have been learning my page duties by attending to Sir Tobias since I have arrived at the castle._

_I have been told that I will be with the Prince at all times and am expected to protect him with my life. The instructors have spent a lot of time teaching me. The sword fighting has been difficult to master, but I must learn as I am to help Prince Anthony practice. Two horses have thrown me during my lessons, but I am beginning to learn how to handle them properly._

_My favorite lessons are those in astrology and mathematics. The instructors say I am learning fast and have a keen mind for those subjects. Other subjects are more difficult for me, but they assure me I am doing fine. I am being taught to dance and have confessed to my instructor that I hope I am not called on to dance often. He said pages normally stand to the side ready to attend to their master’s needs, but may be called upon to dance if there are ladies without proper dance partners._

_I find myself in good health and well fed. There is always an abundance of food in the castle. They have a tailor who has made several outfits for me; each of them far too fancy to wear when working in the fields._

_Sir Tobias has offered to send letters for me with the royal messengers when they ride near the farm. Perhaps if you have an interest in writing back to me, they would be kind enough to bring your return letters to me. I hope this letter finds you well. I miss you all greatly and hope to see you again one day soon._

_Your devoted son,  
Timothy _


	2. A Turn Of The Page

The day of Prince Anthony’s birthday, Sir Tobias browsed through Tim’s outfits and chose one for him to wear. Once Tim was dressed, Fornell escorted him to the hallway outside the banquet room.

“You are to wait here until someone comes for you,” ordered Fornell.

“Yes, Sir Tobias.”

From where he waited, Tim could hear the musicians, jesters and balladeers of the court. In the dimly lit passageway, several maidens carried platters of food and pitchers of drink past him. It all smelled so good, his stomach growled, reminding him of his own hunger.

“Soon,” one of the maidens said as she walked by.

Tim was taken aback by her beauty. She had milky white skin, green eyes, raven hair and an alluring smile.

He waited for her to make her return trip and stammered out, “They call me Tim. I am to be…”

“I know who you are and what you were brought to the castle for,” she said as she continued down the hallway without stopping or glancing back.

On her next trip, he asked, “May I have your name, dear maiden?”

“And what would you do with it if I gave it to you?” she countered.

The minutes she was in the dining hall gave Tim time to think. “I am new here, and would be honored to call you my friend,” he said as she passed him by again.

The maiden smiled and curtsied. “They call me Abby.”

Tim could not prevent the grin from spreading across his face. He was watching Abby walk away when Fornell came to get him.

“Timothy!” 

Tim blushed as he turned around. “Yes, Sir Tobias?”

“It is time. Remember your place and all you have been taught. And keep your words few. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir Tobias.”

Fornell directed Tim to the entrance and walked in beside him, with one hand settled on Tim’s shoulder. “When you are presented,” he whispered, “say only ‘it will be my pleasure to serve you’ to Prince Anthony, then move to stand behind him unless directed otherwise.”

Tim nodded. His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the grandeur. There were dozens of finely dressed people chatting and laughing while they ate and drank. None of them were paying any attention to him. Fornell directed Tim to stand in front of the King. They watched as King Anthony rose to his feet, a golden chalice in his hand.

“We are here to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of my son, Prince Anthony. Son, on this day, it is only suitable that I release the royal nannies.”

“But I adore my nannies,” the Prince protested.

King Anthony raised a hand to silence his son. “You have fought well in battle and, as a prince, it is time you have your own command. At eighteen, you are now a man and too old to be cared for by nannies. They have no place on the battlefield.”

Tim was in awe of the King’s stature and the magnificent array of jewelry he wore, along with his fine attire. He then turned to get his first look at the Prince he would be serving. His mouth dropped open. The paintings he had seen in the castle did not do justice to the handsome young man. Prince Anthony was a younger version of his father. He was tall and athletic, with a brilliant smile that was impossible to ignore.

“For your eighteenth birthday, I am presenting you with your own page. I have handpicked the young lad. He is the stepson to one of my finest fighters who has told me of the boy’s intelligence and loyalty. His stepfather began his training years ago and I am certain the boy will serve you well.”

“It is a wonderful gift, father,” said Prince Anthony. His eyes looked Tim up and down, but he seemed unimpressed.

“And I also give you this fine Arabian stallion,” the King announced as a prancing white horse was led into the banquet hall, his hooves sounding loudly against the tiled floor. 

Prince Anthony immediately rose to his feet and approached the horse. “He is a beauty. Thank you, Father!”

“He is not a battle horse, Son. He is for leisure riding or light travel. His spindly legs could not hold up a fully armed knight for long.”

Prince Anthony ran his hands along the animal’s white coat. “He is well built and strong. We shall share many wonderful adventures together.”

Tim swallowed deeply, feeling the full weight of Fornell’s hand on his shoulder. He had missed his chance to tell the Prince how honored he was to serve him. His heart sank, watching how much more Prince Anthony was excited by the horse he was presented, than his lowly page.

Fornell leaned close, whispering in his ear, “Go and stand behind Prince Anthony’s seat. Keep his chalice full. Follow him when he leaves. Do not say anything, unless he addresses you first.”

Tim stood silently behind Prince Anthony’s chair. Occasionally rising to his tiptoes, he tried to catch a glimpse of the liquid level in the Prince’s chalice. Before he ever had a chance to refill it, one of the maidens would come by and do so. He began wondering what the point was of him standing there at all. But it was not his place to decide where he was to stand.

Prince Anthony laughed easily and applauded the entertainment before him. After long hours of eating and drinking, he stood and hugged the King before leaving the banquet hall. His three royal nannies all turned to follow after the Prince. From his seat at the table, Fornell glared at Tim and nodded for him to follow along. 

The women seemed elderly to Tim, older than his own mother. Their clothing covered almost all of their skin, except for their faces and hands which were wrinkled with age. Surely they had been a comfort to Prince Anthony, especially as his mother had passed away many years before.

It was an awkward situation for Tim; to stand aside watching as the doting nannies helped Prince Anthony into his nightclothes. After tucking him into bed, they each kissed his forehead and gave his hand a squeeze. They each said a few words to the Prince before they departed, touching him as a mother would when tucking in her own child. 

The last one was so choked up, there were tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She pulled Tim aside. “I have been the Prince Anthony’s royal nanny since the day he was born. I cared for the Queen when she was with child and was in the room when she gave birth. I knew this day would come eventually, but I have always dreaded it. You must take care of him. He is a dear, sweet young man and will treat you well. Now that he is eighteen, I hope he will soon be wed and we shall have royal babies in the castle once more.”

“Will you be staying in the castle?”

“We have been given other duties. None as satisfying as caring for Prince Anthony, but we are thankful to not be thrown out into the streets to fend for ourselves.”

Tim nodded. He was glad that the nannies were respected enough to still have a place in the castle. While he had no fear of being thrown out into the street himself, knowing he could always return to the farm, his hand reached to his neck. Fornell had mentioned more than once that the Prince could have his head on a platter, but looking at the nannies, and hearing them talk of the Prince, Tim felt assured everything would work out for him. 

As they left the suite, the nannies extinguished the lamps. Before darkness filled the room, Tim had seen that Prince Anthony’s eyes were closed. For long minutes, he stood alone in the darkness, wondering what to do. Moonlight streamed in through a narrow window, illuminating the Prince’s face. He was the handsomest man Tim had ever seen.

Even though the Prince appeared to be asleep, Tim felt compelled to mutter, “It will be my pleasure to serve you.” He sighed with deep satisfaction once he delivered the words Fornell had given him.

With his exhaustion catching up to him, Tim finally settled himself onto the floor. There was no sleeping mat, extra bedsheets or covers that he had seen. To ward off the coolness of the night, he curled himself into a tight ball.

He barely slept, his stomach twisting over thinking of his future with the Prince. It was still early when he woke. Not knowing what else to do, he sat in a chair and watched over the sleeping Prince; wondering when he would wake. 

When it occurred to him to fetch water and the Prince’s breakfast, he fretted about not knowing his way around the castle. He had no idea how to traverse the passageways to the courtyard with the well or to the kitchen. There was no doubt he would find himself lost. After a while, he convinced himself that there were plenty of others in the castle who could direct him back to the Prince’s suite. He thought of Abby. Perhaps he could find her in the kitchen and she could show him the way back.

Grabbing the pitcher meant to carry the Prince’s bathing water, Tim left the suite and did his best to memorize the path. After a few wrong turns, he found himself in the courtyard, filling the pitcher at the well. There was no shortage of castle guards. When was unsure of his route, he was able to find a guard willing to direct him back to Prince Anthony’s chambers.

Tim sighed in relief in finding the Prince was still asleep. His next venture took him to the kitchen, where the chefs gladly put a platter of food together for the Prince while Tim ate his own breakfast off to the side. The chefs were able to tell Tim which hallways to traverse and which turns to make to get back to the Prince’s chambers. While he ate, he chatted with Friar Duck, a friending chap who delivered wine and ale to the castle on a regular basis. He was a congenial man who had more tales to tell than any other man Tim knew.

“I have known Prince Anthony since they day he was born,” the Friar said. “He was always a good natured child, but that did not prevent him from getting into his share of mischief.”

Although he looked around, he never saw Abby that morning. One of the chefs informed him that Abby spent much of her time traveling to the surrounding forests and towns to gather herbs for both cooking and medicinal purposes, along with picking a variety of flowers to brighten up the rooms of the castle.

“Sometimes she is gone for days,” the chef said.

Back in the Prince’s suite, Tim poured the wash water into the waiting bowl and set a towel beside it. There was a table and chair in the chamber beside a window which looked like it was meant for dining. Tim set the platter of food there, noticing that it overlooked the stable.

For over an hour, Tim sat in the chair by the window and mostly watched the stable activities, occasionally glancing over to Prince Anthony as he slept. When the Prince began to stir, Tim went over to the bed. His eyes were drawn to the tenting beneath the covers. 

Holding his breath, Tim reached out nervously, slipping his hand beneath the covers. For the first time in his life, he hesitantly reached out to touch the Prince’s cock and began to stroke it gently. Releasing his breath slowly, he noted that the Prince’s cock was larger than his own, both in length and girth. He repeatedly told himself this was his duty and he had no choice. Just as Fornell had instructed, he rubbed his thumb across the head, feeling the moist pre-cum at the tip, then continued pumping the shaft.

A warm sensation flushed throughout his body and stirred his own cock. His cheeks reddened as he hoped he was doing his task correctly. Licking his lips, he swallowed deeply as he focused on the cock in his hand.

Prince Anthony awoke soon after. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stared at Tim. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing?” he inquired loudly.

“I am your new page, Tim. Or Timothy if you prefer. Sir Tobias trained me,” Tim stammered nervously, his fingers still wrapped around the Prince’s erect cock.

“He trained you to do this?” the Prince waved a hand toward his genitals.

“Yes, my Prince.”

“Do you have a surname?”

“McGee.”

“Ah, McGee. That shows your Scottish roots. I wish for you to call me Tony.”

“Tony?”

“Yes. That is what my close friends and nannies call me. I prefer it. That is only when we are alone. If we are out in public, you should probably stick to calling me Prince Anthony.”

“As you desire.”

“And I can take care of my own cock.”

McGee glanced down briefly, then released Tony’s penis. He wondered if he was not performing the task correctly and had displeased the Prince in any way. “Okay. I was only doing what Sir Tobias told me to do. I have drawn water and brought your breakfast from the kitchen,” said Tim, waving his arm in the direction of the table near the window. “If there is anything else you want or need, I will do my best to take care of it.”

“How old are you, McGee?”

“Thirteen.”

“I can barely believe that my father dismissed my three treasured, experienced nannies, for a single McTeen. What do you know of taking care of my needs? What experience in life do you have?”

“My stepfather went to war with your father. He may have been of a low class, but apparently he had the King’s ear. He was given the land adjoining ours to farm. My real father had been killed in a battle a year earlier. My mother married him to care for my sister and me. I have worked the farm and cared for our animals since I can remember.”

“Horses?”

“A couple of cows, oxen and a few sheep.”

“You are a McShepherd! I am to be cared for by a shepherd boy. I assure you, I am not one of your sheep.”

“I am aware, my Prince. Tony. I was brought to the castle a month ago and was given to Sir Tobias to be trained. I am to accompany you through your day.”

“You can ride a horse?”

“I am learning.”

“Have you any skill with a blade?”

“My stepfather taught me some basic skills. I have learned more since I arrived at the castle.”

“Are you to join me in my studies?”

“Yes. I quite enjoy learning from books. I find them fascinating.”

“Of course, you do. Actually, being a farm boy, I am surprised you can read.”

“My mother taught me. Books are few where we live, but I read every book I could find and borrow.”

“There are plenty of books in the castle,” said Prince Anthony.

“I have been in the library. The collection of books is amazing. More than I have ever seen together in one room before.”

As they chatted, Tony had finished jacking himself off beneath the covers. Pausing for a moment, he closed his eyes and sped up his hand movement before smiling blissfully. He eventually asked, “Where did you sleep last night?”

Tim nodded to a corner of the room near the fireplace. “There.”

“With no covers or sheets?” the Prince asked in disbelief.

“The nannies put you to bed, extinguished the lamps and departed. I did not know what else to do. I remained awake for a while, then slept on the floor.”

Tony’s eyes scanned over his bed. “There is no reason for you to sleep on stone. My bed is large. You are welcome to sleep beside me.”

“Sir?”

“Really, it is fine. My nannies had their own quarters, but apparently you are meant to share mine.”

“I can ask for quarters of my own. Sir Tobias said you would tell me where to sleep.”

Tony waved off his concerns. “It is fine. It may be more convenient to have you here. My nannies each had a shift. One of them was always here with me.”

“Did they share your bed?”

“No! Of course not. The one who was with me at night sat in the chair over there and watched over me as I slept. She was here to ensure no one did me harm as I slept and to do my bidding when I awoke.”

“Your nannies were trained with the sword to defend you?”

“No. That cord there, if you pull it, a bell rings and summons the guards.”

Tim nodded slowly, suddenly remembering that Fornell told him not to talk too much.

“Fetch my clothing,” Tony commanded as he rose from his bed.

Tim scrambled quickly into the next chamber where the Prince’s clothing was stored. “Will you be riding this morning?”

“Studies.”

The Prince had enough clothing to outfit the entire village that was nearest to Tim’s family’s farm. He remembered the words of the tailor and Fornell, using their advice to choose an outfit suitable for the Prince to wear around the castle. When he laid the garments on Tony’s bed, he hoped he had chosen wisely.

Tony had risen from the bed and splashed water on his face before shaving. Tim watched with great interest as the Prince scraped the stubble from his face. His own father and stepfather had worn beards. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“Do not worry McTeen, you will get whiskers soon enough. A royal pain is what they are.”

“Where I am from, the men allow their beards to grow.”

Tony smiled. “It is okay for common men and soldiers to grow their beards, but royalty and nobility are expected to scrape them off. My father has an attendant do it for him. I am surprised he allows anyone so close to his throat with a sharpened blade.”

“Is that why you scrape your own whiskers?”

“My father tells me that I must learn to do this myself before allowing someone else the privilege. Perhaps there will a day when I entrust you with the task.”

Tim’s eyes roamed over Tony’s body slowly.

“What?” asked the Prince when he noticed his page leering at him.

“I have never seen a man’s body with such perfect proportions.”

The Prince laughed. “I shall take that as a compliment.”

When the Prince stepped over to where Tim had laid out his clothing, Tim stood still until the Prince turned and glared at him.

“I am sorry, my Prince,” Tim stammered as he assisted Tony into his garments.

Once he was dressed, Tony sat down at the table to eat and motioned for Tim to sit across from him. “Are you hungry?”

“The chefs gave me something to eat while they were preparing your meal.”

“If you are ever hungry or cold or tired, you can tell me. I was raised by three sweet, motherly nannies. They taught me to think of others.”

Tim simply nodded. He had heard some wealthy people treated others quite poorly.

“They explained to me that life is good for the wealthy, but not always so for others. And they warned that if I do not treat others well, I may find myself poor and wanting one day. My life could depend on other people, and their willingness to help me in my time of need may be determined by how I have treated them in the past.”

“I was raised to obey my elders.”

“I am not that much older than you. Five years is not much time.”

“It is closer to four years. My birthday is in November.”

“I shall remember that. Let us go to the royal classroom to see what the instructors will teach us today.”

In the first few days they were together, Tony was amazed at how well Tim absorbed knowledge from books. When asked about their lessons as the page often had a better grasp of the more abstract ideas. In physical endeavors, Tony found he could easily beat Tim with a sword or on the back of a horse.

The Prince realized that he enjoyed sharing his bed, especially on colder nights. Tim allowed Tony to take care of his own cock when they awoke, but occasionally reminded the Prince that he had been trained for the task.

“I prefer to handle it on my own,” Tony assured him. “Have you ever kissed someone before?”

“Not really. I have kissed my mother on the cheek. She kisses me on the cheek or forehead.”

“Does your cock get hard at night?”

“Not like yours,” Tim admitted.

“I thought perhaps you took care of it before I awoke.”

“Sir Tobias said it will happen one day. He told me about fornication.”

“Your father did not explain it to you?”

“No.”

“My father, the King, he gave me some pointers. But he also had my instructors teach me. My nannies gave me some suggestions as well on how to treat a lady properly. My father explained about fucking a woman, but pulling my cock out before spilling my seed. At least until I have taken a wife.”

Tim was unsure of the meaning, but nodded anyway.

“That is how a woman becomes with child, when a man spills his seed inside of her. My father explained that a wife will be chosen for me one day, but he does not expect me to remain a virgin until then.”

“You lie with women you are not married to?”

“All the time. But it will cause problems if one ever bears my child. So I have to be careful. Otherwise, if my father suspects a woman that I am not wedded to of carrying my child, he would have her killed. So I must be careful for their sake.”

“Sir Tobias asked if I had ever been with a man,” Tim blurted out.

“Have you?”

“No. Although, my mother told me it was a sin to lie with a woman who is not your wife, she said nothing about being with a man.”

“And Sir Tobias did not take you?”

“Not like that. He said I was to remain a virgin in case you wanted to,” pausing, Tim gulped. “Do that to me.”

“Perhaps one day. You are young, McTeen. Your cock does not get hard yet. It means you are not ready. But kissing is something you are ready to learn.”

Tim sighed, relieved.

That night, Tony held Tim close in bed and began teaching him the art of kissing. 

Tim found the closeness pleasant, feeling hardness of Tony’s well-toned muscles and the warmth of his skin against his own. The Prince’s lips were soft, reminding Tim of melting butter so much that he licked his own lips. 

“Lips only for now, McAnxious,” Tony said as he gently brushed back Tim’s hair. “We shall get to the tongues later on. You must never kiss more than my hand in public, but this time at night is our own.”

Tim nodded as he felt the sensation of warmth ebbing throughout his body until his cock began to stir.

Tim often found time to write his mother in the mornings, before Prince Anthony was awake.

_My Dearest Mother,_

_I miss you all very much and have imagined the fields growing nearer to harvest each day. When we go on rides, I see the harvesting is done here and I imagine it is the same for you. But I still like to think of the crops in the field as it reminds me of pleasant times at home. It is strange for me, knowing that I was not there to partake in the harvest and the bountiful meals you always prepare._

_I am enjoying life in the castle and becoming more used to it each day. The Prince is quite kind hearted and watches out for me. My clothing is nearly as fine and innumerable as his own. We spend nearly every moment together and I have learned so much. They have a library full of hundreds of books, which I have been told I can read at my leisure._

_I already accompany the Prince to meetings with the King and his greatest knights. I am sure once Prince Anthony is crowned king, he will retain my services as an advisor. He often asks my opinions on all matters of things._

_I have accompanied the Prince into battle, but the knights are sworn to protect him. We are never outnumbered and if an opposing knight looks to be gaining the advantage over the Prince, our knights will ride forward and finish our foe. I have only rarely crossed swords with another in battle. The Prince looks forward to proving himself on the battlefield and will take on any foe riding toward us._

_He says he sleeps well, knowing I am at his side. It is a great compliment to me._

_As always, I hope all is well with everyone at home and look forward to your next letter._

_Your devoted son,  
Timothy _


	3. A Tree In The Forest

 

As the months and years passed by, Tim grew taller and stronger. Although he never mastered the sword or riding as well as the Prince, he became quite satisfactorily skilled at both. Prince Anthony bragged to his father how smart Tim was and the boy was not only at meetings to accompany the Prince, but was sometimes asked his thoughts on important matters.

He continued writing to his mother of his experiences with the Prince and of life in the castle and looked forward to hearing any word from the farm.

On his eighteenth birthday, Prince Anthony gave Tim a fine horse of his own and changed his title to squire. Although King Anthony was not keen to celebrate with a fine banquet, the Prince insisted.

“He is like a brother to me,” the Prince had said.

“Then you would share your throne with him?”

“I will not give him the throne, but he will have my ear. He is a smart lad and I trust him completely. There are not many people I can trust. Timothy has proven his loyalty to me and to this kingdom time and time again. I would like to celebrate his eighteenth year to show my gratitude.”

In the end, King Anthony allowed the festivities. Prince Anthony had arranged for games including a royal joust and presented Tim with his own seat, right at the Prince’s side. 

“One day, I shall have you knighted,” the Prince promised him.

Tim beamed with pride at Tony’s words. He had always aspired to be a knight one day and now he knew it was only a matter of time.

The Prince’s fine Arabian stallion had matured and was a favorite mount. The Prince called him Victory. Tim’s horse was a heavier steed, a pale chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail. Tim was told his name was Chester. He was taller than Victory, but did not have the speed the Arabian had. Still, he was able to match Victory’s pace except at a full gallop.

Tim continued sharing Tony’s bed, and would close his eyes when he stroked his own cock. Inhaling deeply, he could smell the Prince beside him, and imagined they were kissing. Although he thought about fornicating with the Prince, he never told him. He was afraid Tony might kick him out of the bed permanently. Instead, he dreamed about the Prince, and detested any talk around the castle of the King searching for a bride to wed his son.

Then the day came that Prince Anthony was summoned to a nearby kingdom to meet Princess Amelinne. He rolled his eyes when his father wanted to send a score of knights along to protect him.

“My squire and I will be fine,” he insisted.

“Sheriff Vance says there have been more reports of robbers in the forests.”

“Then have the sheriff and his men arrest the robbers. Timothy and I are armed with swords and can protect ourselves.”

“And if you find yourself outnumbered?” asked the King.

“There is no horse in the kingdom that can outrun Victory at a full gallop.”

“And you would leave your squire behind?”

Tony thought for a moment. “He shall ride the next fastest horse in the royal stable. I will have them saddle Weatherby and a pack horse for our things.”

“I wish you would reconsider taking the carriage and a score of knights.”

“What am I? A woman? A damsel in distress who is in need of protecting and saving?”

His father laughed heartily. “No, my son. But it is my hope that you will live long enough to take the throne.”

“Do not worry about me. You should find yourself another queen. I see no reason that I should be forced to marry when you are single and sitting on the throne alone.”

“You do not fear she would poison us both just to rule on her own?”

“I trust you have better judgment than that. And your guards have managed to kill off your previous wives who appeared to have nefarious schemes in mind.”

“This is true. It is difficult to remember which ones actually died from natural causes.”

“I suppose it is easier to remember those you divorced.”

A fortnight later, Tony and Tim mounted their horses and left the safety of the castle walls.

“In truth, I do not care if we ever arrive,” Tony confessed.

“Why is that?”

“I am not sure I wish to be married.”

“Princess Amelinne could be very beautiful.”

“I am certain that she is. Most kings are given a beautiful wife to bear him beautiful children. Why should I expect anything less? I fear it may not be enough.”

“She could be smart and bright and may challenge your intellect.”

“Perhaps. Although, most women are taught to hold their tongue, and bear children, instead of speaking their minds.”

“Even a princess? I thought all royalty were educated in running their kingdoms. What if her parents die and she is made queen?”

“She has two brothers in line to take the throne before her. And if she was in that position, I am certain there are royal consuls in place until she is ready to run things on her own.”

“Do you dream of the day you will be king?” Tim asked.

“In truth, I would like to travel. I would like to shed my royal garb and see the world from the back of my horse,” Tony said, reaching down to pat Victory’s shoulder. “I would like to see the cities I have only read about. I have heard about great works of art, a feast for the eyes.”

“If you were poor, you would work from sunup until sundown in the fields until you dropped dead. There is no time to dream when it is time to harvest the crops.”

“I suppose we all have our crosses to bear. Now allow me to ask you a question. If you were still at home on your farm, would you have taken a wife by now?”

“Perhaps.”

“Would your marriage be arranged?”

“It is not like it is for you,” Tim explained. “Royal families have arranged marriages to strengthen their allies. On the farm, we look for a woman who is strong and will bear many children. She should be a good cook and be able to keep her family in clothing. If she can do that and work the fields beside her husband, she is a true treasure.”

Tony tightened the reins, pulling Victory to a stop. “But is your marriage arranged? Do you have a choice in the bride you take?”

“I suppose. Although the choices are often very limited and it is not unusual for one’s family or church to nudge a couple together.”

“Interesting,” replied Tony as he pushed Victory into motion once more.

In the afternoon, they met up with another group of riders. Tony and Tim each put their hands on the hilts of their swords in case of trouble.

As the group closed in on them, Tony sighed in relief. “Greetings, Sheriff Vance. What news do you have?”

“Where are your royal guards, Prince Anthony?”

“It is only a short trip. I have my squire, Timothy, to watch my back.”

“No offence to your squire, but there is an active group of robbers that rides through these forests. They could easily outnumber and overpower the two of you.”

“We are riding the two fastest horses in the whole kingdom.”

“Winding overgrown paths in the forest are not the same as a flat road for racing.”

“Victory and Weatherby are both swift and surefooted. Victory may have a slight edge on speed, but there is no finer jumper in the land than Weatherby. They will deliver us safely to our destiny and back.”

“It is not safe. I must assign two of my men to escort you through the forest,” insisted Sheriff Vance.

“It is not necessary,” said Tony.

“Crime in the area is increasing. We are chasing after them now, but they could be anywhere. They are clever nomads. They move their camp constantly. They are led by a man named Jethro Gibbs. He is a very dangerous man. He would think nothing of killing you. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to continue unescorted.” Sheriff Vance turned to his men. “Kent and Stokes, escort the Prince.”

“We do not have enough supplies for two more,” Tony noted.

“They carry their own packs and can hunt off the land. Your father would never forgive me if I failed to provide you protection and something happened to you.”

Tony wanted to tell Vance that they did not have time to stop and hunt for food, but decided to just move on. Once the sheriff made up his mind, he was not known for being talked into a different course of action.

“Thank you, Sheriff Vance.” With that said, Tony turned his horse and continued down the road.

That evening they stopped at a farmhouse, and sent Timothy to talk to the farmer, offering him cash for use of his barn for the night. Being poor, it was an offer most people in the area could not afford to refuse.

“Do not tell them that I am a prince,” warned Tony. “It is safer for me if no one knows that I am traveling.”

After they were given permission, the four men led their horses into the barn and spread out their bedrolls. An hour after the four men arrived, the farmer and his wife came to the barn and offered their guests a loaf of dark rye bread, cheese, ale and small portions of boiled pigeon, which the guests gratefully accepted.

“I would give almost anything for a nice lamb shank right about now,” said Tony.

Tim frowned. “This is probably the best food these people have had in a month. It was only offered because of the money you gave them. They surely think you are some great nobleman to have such wealth to spread around.”

“You know I care nothing about my wealth,” Tony replied as he smoothed his bedding.

“You might think differently if you had to toil from sunup to sundown every day of your life just to keep your family fed.”

“And this is why it is foolish to marry. Once you wed, you are responsible for a wife and however many children she produces.”

“Do you not want children? Someone to carry on your line?”

“For all I care, my father can marry another woman and have more children. If I am made to rule, my halfsiblings or their children can have the throne when I am gone. Does it really matter anyway? I see no reason to bog myself down with such unpleasantries. Being single, I wish to enjoy my life. When I die, why should I care who sits on my throne?”

Tim sat and stared at Tony as if he was seeing him for the first time. “How can you not care? Do you not feel a responsibility for the people under your father’s rule?”

“I understand why a farmer needs a wife and children. When he grows old and his body is frail, he will rejoice in having offspring to work the farm and put food in his mouth. I have no need to worry. The royal family is wealthy. I will be cared for until the end of my days whether I am married or not. If I did not sit on the throne, another would be found to serve as king. Even if I take the throne, all men die one day. There would still come a day when someone else would sit on the throne.”

“Do you not wish to have someone to love and care for you?”

Tony smiled broadly. “That is what I have you around for, Tim. You care for me. Do you not?”

“I do. But is that the same as having a wife or child around to care for you?”

“It is far less complicated. My father has been married more times than I care to count and the only one of them who was not a pain in the ass was my mother.”

“What happened to her?”

“She became ill and died when I was seven. I was allowed to remain with her until the end. I was sitting on her bed, holding her hand, when she took her final breath.”

“Wow,” Tim exclaimed. “I have never been in the same room as someone passed away.”

“It is not that exciting,” Tony said. “She was weak. She lost her appetite near the end and had not eaten more than a bit of broth in her final days. I remember she gasped a couple times, then there was a long exhale and she breathed no more. I sat with her a while longer. She was still and her body cooled. Eventually my nannies took me from the room and told me she was in a better place.”

“Heaven.”

“I asked them, if there was a better place than life, why everybody did not wish to die and go to the better place.”

Tim smiled again. He liked to think of Tony as a young boy. “And what did they tell you?”

“They told me that God has a plan for everybody. You must have faith in God and he will come for you when you have proven yourself faithful to him and he has no more for you to do on Earth. They said if you kill yourself, you go to a bad place and it is full of the most horrible conditions you can imagine, and you are tortured for all eternity. But they assured me that my mother went with God.”

“My father died in battle. I do not even know where his body was buried.”

The next morning, Tim woke up early and happily assisted the farmer and his family with some of their chores. In return, he was given more dark rye bread, cheese and ale for their morning meal.

When Tony blinked his eyes open and looked at the food placed before him, he glanced over to McGee. “Is this left over from supper? It looks strangely familiar.”

“Welcome to the life of a farmer. Last night they likely had turnip or leek pottage for dinner, but would have only had enough for their own family. We were fortunate they had enough of anything to share. It is a gift, my Prince. Accept it as such.”

“Sure. I actually like tasting different foods. Life is for experiencing things, Tim. If I am allowed, I will experience all I can.”

After they ate the meager food offerings and packed their bedrolls, the group said farewell to the family and mounted their horses. As they entered the forest, Vance’s men insisted on riding in front. Tony gave them some room, but kept them within sight.

At midday, they stopped for a meal. Tim unwrapped loaves of white bread, along with dried beef and lamb.

One of Vance’s men looked at the offerings. “You had this and you ate a farmer’s meal last night?”

Tim scowled. “They were being gracious hosts. It would have been rude to refuse their hospitality.”

“Did Vance not say you two were used to hunting to provide food when you travel?” Tony asked.

“Aye, we are.”

Motioning for them to sit, he offered, “Please share our meal. I will not have you slowing us down. Then tonight you can amaze us with your ability to hunt.”

“Thank you, Prince Anthony. You are most gracious and accommodating.”

After their meal, the men were back atop their horses, often moving at a trot. 

“This is nice, Tim. The trees allow plenty of light, yet keep the harshest of heat from touching our skin.”

“Surely you have ridden through the forests before?”

“Of course. I have been riding on royal hunts since I was seven or eight. When did you begin going on hunts?”

“About the same age.”

“Interesting.”

“When we did hunt, it was not the same as your notion of hunting. We hunt only small game, such as rabbits or game birds. We had no horses, so we tracked animals on foot and had to carry home anything we killed. We only hunted for food, never for sport.”

“Really?”

“I told you, farmers have to work sunup until sundown just to put food on the table. During the seasons from planting until harvest, we have no time for hunting. There are times when food is scarce in winter and we have no choice, but to hunt.”

“I guess you are correct, Tim. Being a poor McFarmer must be a terrible fate,” admitted Tony.

“It is not all bad. In the winter, there is time to read, and my mother would sing to us. She loves to sing.”

“One day we shall visit your farm. I would love to meet your family.”

“You truly wish to meet my family?” Tim asked in disbelief.

“You have told me so much about your mother, sister and stepfather that I feel as if I know them already. I would be honored to meet them and see where you spent the first thirteen years of your life.” 

Tim stared at Tony, but saw only truth and sincerity in his eyes. 

The pair saw Vance’s men stop ahead of them.

“It is early to stop for the night,” said Tim.

A moment later, Tony wheeled his horse around. “Ride, Tim, ride!”

Tim barely had Weatherby turned around when he heard the clash of swords and turned to see Vance’s men had been engaged. When he turned back he saw Tony and Victory galloping down the road. Dropping the lead line for the pack horse, he urged Weatherby to follow after the Prince.

A snap of a tree branch startled Weatherby and he stopped short. Tim barely caught himself before he fell. When he cued Weatherby to move, he realized someone on the ground had grabbed hold of the reins. Tim drew his sword.

The moment his sword was drawn, he was surrounded. When he glanced down the road, he saw that Tony and Victory had been captured in a net. Without thought of his own safety, Tim leapt down from Weatherby’s saddle, fought past two men, then ran to Tony’s side. The Prince was on his feet attempting to calm his horse and free him from the netting.

Tim put himself between Tony and their attackers.

Several men moved in and surrounded them, some with swords, others with bows and arrows.

“Stay behind me, Tony,” said Tim as he faced their attackers.

Tony pulled a pouch from beneath his tunic. “You want money, right?” he asked. “Consider this a toll. It is payment for our safe passage through these woods.” He tossed the pouch several feet in front of Tim. “All we ask is to be allowed to continue on our journey.”

A gray-haired man eased his arrow from his bow and stepped closer. “Who are you that you travel with an escort of the sheriff’s men?”

“We were not traveling with them, my good man. We were riding through the forest and they passed us by.”

The man stepped forward and easily disarmed Tim, knocking him to the ground and taking his sword. “This man protects you. That means you have wealth.”

“He is a devoted friend and like a younger brother to me. I would do the same for him, if his horse was stuck in a net.”

The man approached Victory and patted his neck to calm him. Retrieving a knife from his belt, he quickly freed the horse. “He is very beautiful.”

“He was a gift from my father.”

The man swatted Victory hard on his butt, sending him down the road and nodded for Weatherby to be released as well. “Then back to your father he shall go.”

“You leave us on foot and without our supplies, my friend,” noted Tony, holding back his anger. 

“You have shoes.”

“I do. But my feet are not as swift as that of my horse.”

“What is your business?” demanded the man, who seemed to be the obvious leader of the group.

“My father sent me to look at new stock. We were to bargain for new bloodlines.”

“Your father must be a wealthy man.”

“I am certain there are wealthier.”

“I would bet he would pay quite well for the return of his only son.”

“Why do you think I am an only son?”

“I know who you are: Prince Anthony, heir to the throne.”

Tony sighed deeply. “You have me at a disadvantage.”

“They call me Gibbs. Jethro Gibbs.”


	4. Captured In The Forest

Being surrounded by Gibbs’ men, Tim and Tony had no choice other than complying. Although Tony had never raised his sword, Gibbs lifted it from him as well.

“You boys should always carry a knife,” mentioned Gibbs.

“A knife?” Tony asked.

“Or a dagger. You would find either to be invaluable. You could have cut your horse free from the netting and might have fought off your attackers.”

“A knife would not be much good against a sword or arrow.”

“You would be surprised.”

Gibbs’ followers approached Tony and Tim, then forced them to walk along a narrow path to a clearing.

Tony was amazed at how large the encampment was. “How do you hide all this from the sheriff?” he asked.

“We move around when we need to and hide our paths from his eyes. The forest is dense and the foliage is plentiful. It is not difficult to cover our tracks,” explained Gibbs.

“Sheriff Vance seems quite determined to find you.”

“I used to be under his command in battle. I can sense when he is near.”

“You served in battle with Leon Vance?”

“He was rewarded with land and his job as a sheriff. My men and I were given nothing more than our contracted pay. We fought hard, many giving their lives, and yet we were given no land to farm, no animals to tend. No extra sum of money to move on with our lives.”

“And this is why you rob people?” Tony asked.

“It is not all that simple,” said Gibbs. “Or perhaps it is. I do not see myself as a robber so much as a redistributor of wealth.”

Tony smiled. “I like that. You are a hero to the poor. I have heard the tales. You steal from the wealthy and give to the less fortunate.”

“The poor are hurting and dying. They work themselves to death and the wealthy, who have much more than they need, take nearly everything. The poor must face their children in winter and tell them there is nothing to eat, while the wealthy do nothing but consume multiple courses and more pastry and tarts in a week than any poor person would taste in their lifetime.”

“Are you saying the poor are not allowed to make tarts?”

“I am saying, they cannot possibly afford the ingredients. If they cannot grow it on their farm, they do without. This way,” said Gibbs, motioning to a structure near the center of the encampment. 

Like everything else, it was uniquely hidden beneath living forest foliage and blended in with the surrounding plants and trees. 

Woven rugs covered portions of the hard-packed dirt floor. What drew Tony’s attention was the huge bed frame carved from wood. “This is fabulous, Gibbs. Is this your guest quarters?”

“We do not have a guest quarters. We usually just chain prisoners up at night and let them sleep with the pigs.”

“You have pigs?” Tony asked.

Gibbs glared at the Prince. “I have given all that I have to the poor and needy. These are my quarters. Since you are a prince, I thought I would do my best to accommodate you.”

Tony approached the bed, studying the carvings, allowing his fingers to follow the gentle carved arcs. “This is beautiful, really. Who crafted such a masterpiece?”

“Me,” said Gibbs. “I enjoy working with wood.”

“It is difficult to believe you have the time, between making weapons, robbing the wealthy and hiding from the law.”

“On the contrary, we have a lot of downtime. Carving the wood eases my mind.”

“And provides you with a nice place to lay your head.”

“Sleep does not come easily to me,” confessed Gibbs. “I worry about all the people who do not have the food and medicine they need to survive.”

A woman’s voice came in through the doorway. “Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!”

Tim recognized the woman. “Abby?”

“Thank God you are alright,” Abby said. “Gibbs, Tim is a friend, please do not hurt him.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “I am not going to hurt him. Unless he tries to escape.”

“Oh, good. Tim, you will love it here.”

“Abby, why are you here?” asked Tim.

“People are suffering, Tim. You know that is true. The King does nothing for his people even the ones willing to give up their lives for him.”

“That is not true. He gave a farm to my stepfather.”

“And what happened to the previous owner?” Abby questioned, her arms crossed.

“I heard he died in battle.”

“And what happened to his family?”

“They went to stay with relatives. The farm was abandoned.”

“Abandoned or stolen?”

Tim fell silent. He had never heard one way or another if the family intended to return.

“I heard about all the good that Gibbs is doing and I came to help,” said Abby as she laced her arm through Gibbs’ and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“You still work in the castle. They send you out to gather herbs in the forest,” Tim said.

“And I do. I gather herbs and flowers for the castle. That is absolutely true.”

Tony looked Abby in the eye. “And you give Gibbs any news of the castle?”

“What do I know of? I work in the kitchen with the chefs. The only thing I can tell Gibbs is what the King has been served for dinner.”

“There are many passageways. You could hide and listen to the King’s private meetings.”

“Gibbs has no interest in the King’s business other than making sure everyone has enough to survive.”

Tony looked between Tim and Abby before turning to Gibbs. “You knew I would be riding through the forest.”

Gibbs smirked at him. “I could hear your chatter for an hour and could smell you for half the day before we confronted you.”

Tim held back a chuckle.

“You stayed at a farm last night,” Gibbs continued. “It is just about a mile from the edge of the forest. Nice family. You smell like their barn.”

“What are your intentions for us?” asked Tony.

“I have sent word to your father. When he pays your ransom, you will be free to go. Until then, you and your squire will be my guests.”

Tony paced the room, eyeing the door and windows. It was built to leave options for escape. “You mean to keep us in chains?”

“I have no need to keep you in chains.”

“How do you plan to prevent us from leaving on our own?”

“The men and women who follow me guard this camp every hour of the day and night. They watch out for me. You could not get out of this cottage without half the camp being aware of your movements. But if it makes you happy, I can accommodate your desire to be chained up.”

“That is not necessary,” Tony conceded. 

“Good.”

“I promise we will not try to escape. My word is my bond.”

“I am not worried about it. You would never make it out of the camp. And Prince, if you do try to escape, then it will be my pleasure to put you in chains.”

“Fair enough.”

Gibbs smiled. “Make yourselves at home,” he offered. “I have business to attend to.”

Tim and Tony watched as Gibbs walked away, Abby at his side.

“How are we going to get out of here?” whispered Tim.

“We are not. Gibbs has sent word to my father. Surely he will pay any ransom Gibbs has asked for. It is only a matter of time before we are released. Until then, I am saved from making this trip to meet a potential bride. Here, we will both live as princes.”

“Both of us?”

“If we are not allowed to leave this structure, then they will have to wait on us hand and foot. Both of us,” Tony insisted.

“I do not think this will be as easy as you believe it will be.”

Tony returned to the bed and climbed on top of it. As he patted a portion of the bed beside himself, he nodded at Tim. “Come on and join me.”

“In Gibbs’ bed?”

“He does not appear to be using it at present. And you heard him yourself. We are to be his guests and to make ourselves at home. So, get over here. I am weary from the trials of the day and wish to rest. You know I always sleep better when you are at my side.”

Two hours later, Gibbs returned and found the pair asleep in his bed.

He woke Tony first, then Tim. “Our supplies have arrived. I thought you might be hungry.”

“You trust us to leave our prison?” Tony asked.

Gibbs chuckled. “This is not a prison. As I told you, these are my quarters.” 

“So you said.”

“There is no reason to confine you to this building. We have guards watching the perimeter at all times. As long as you do not try to escape, you are free to roam the camp.”

The pair rolled out of the bed and followed Gibbs into the edge of the encampment. There was a horse-drawn wagon being unloaded.

“Friar Duck?” Tony asked, recognizing the driver.

“Yes, my boy,” answered the older gentleman as he climbed down from the driver’s seat.

“What are you doing here? With this man?”

“Gibbs? He is quite extraordinary, is he not?”

“He has taken Tim and me hostage.”

“Has he? Well, you were riding through his forest. Have you met my assistant, Jimmy? My knees and back are no longer as good as those of a younger man.”

“ _His_ forest?” Tony questioned.

“All the farmland was given away. These people need somewhere to live. Gibbs was quite a hero in battle, and yet he was given nothing for his sacrifice. He has claimed the forest as his domain.”

“Sheriff Vance may have something to say about that.”

“Sheriff Vance is outnumbered and outmaneuvered by Gibbs at every turn. It is quite simple, really. All Gibbs wants is for the wealthy to stop taking advantage of the poor. Everyone should be able to have the opportunity to provide basic needs for themselves and their families, but many of the wealthy take advantage of those at their mercy; taking everything they have. Those who toil all day do so to the benefit of the wealthy, not themselves. And what to the wealthy do? They sit in their castles and estates eating more food than most common people see in a month. They rich grow fat and lazy and if they want more, they take it from the mouths of the poor.”

“It cannot be as bad as you say,” Tony said.

“How often do you ride out to see the people?” Gibbs asked.

“We go out and make appearances on occasion.”

“And the people are given flower petals to throw in your path and anyone who dares not cooperate is punished. They might be flogged or kicked off of the land they farm.”

“How can they be removed from what they own?”

“They do not really own it. All land belongs to the wealthy. The poor are only given the right to grow their crops on it. Aside from having to pay for that privilege, they are heavily taxed. They pay taxes on everything they grow and everything they sell. What work does the wealthy do? Nothing. They sit on their asses and grow fat on the work of others.”

Tony could not dispute Gibbs’ words. Having spent his life mostly on the castle grounds or surrounded by guards, knights or nannies, he knew little of the day-to-day hardships of the common people.

“One day you should ride out and talk to your people. Learn of their struggles.”

“One day, I shall,” Tony promised.

“Come, then,” said Friar Duck. “We have a pig roasting and plenty of ale. Of course, not all lords and landowners are bad. Some are quite generous of their own accord.”

“But those who take advantage outweigh those who are generous,” added Gibbs. “There are always poor in need of help.”

Tony nodded, seeing that the wagon was loaded down with barrels of ale and also had two small pigs tied in back. Jimmy handed over a large sack to one of the women, who opened it and began handing out loaves of dark bread.

Tony and Tim were pointed toward a long wooden table, with wooden stumps and planks fashioned into seating. A few similar tables stood nearby. People gathered around, filling the tables. As Tim and Tony looked around, they saw other buildings hidden within the foliage, and assumed Gibbs’ followers lived together as a village. 

There were several women who tended the cooking fire and placed food and drink before the men. Tony and Tim were each given a bowl of thick vegetable stew and a plate with bread and chunks of pork. Mugs of ale were soon set before them as well.

Gibbs sat at the end of the table and called to Tony. “One day soon we will feast upon fresh deer meat in honor of your presence. I shall hunt it myself, only if you promise not to tell your father, of course.”

His followers chuckled, knowing that it was forbidden to hunt the King’s deer. And all deer within the kingdom were considered property of the King.

Tim noticed Abby sat at Gibbs’ side and seemed to hang on his every word.

“I cannot believe she is fawning all over him,” Tim whispered to Tony.

“Tim, I do believe this is the first time you have ever shown interest in a woman.”

“I am not interested in her in that way. She is a friend. She helped me when I first came to the castle.”

“Then what do you care if she pays attention to this Gibbs person?”

“I do not. Why would I?”

“There is the look of jealousy in your eyes.”

After the meal, the sun dropped low and torches were lit. In the light of the flames, various members of the group would step into a small clearing in front of the tables and tell jokes or stories or sing. It reminded Tony of the entertainers in the court of his father.

When the full moon rose in the sky, Gibbs approached his hostages and took Tony’s arm. “It is time you got some rest, Your Highness.” 

Tim followed the pair, even though nothing was said to him.

The moment they were inside the cottage, Gibbs pushed Tony against one of the sturdy support beams and kissed him solidly. Tim’s mouth dropped open. Tony did not fight back in the least. In fact, he was smiling when Gibbs backed away from him.

“I was curious about you, Prince. You have an eye for men,” said Gibbs.

“Male or female makes no difference to me so long as their lips are sweet and their bodies are warm.”

Gibbs nodded to Tim. “Does this one assist with the royal cock?”

“If I ask, he does my bidding.”

Gibbs looked Tim up and down, making him slightly uncomfortable. “Does he prefer it in his mouth or his ass?”

Tony chuckled easily. “What is your interest in my squire?”

“Perhaps my interest is in both of you.”

“I have seen the beautiful women in the camp. Why does your eye stray to men?”

“I have had many women and many men. As you say, Prince, if their lips are sweet and their bodies are warm, what difference does it make?”

Tony and Tim watched as Gibbs put aside his knife and removed his tunic. “Entertain me,” he said as he approached his bed.

“What?” Tony asked.

“I wish to see for myself,” said Gibbs, nodding to Tim. “Are his lips as sweet as they look?”

“You want me to kiss my squire?”

Gibbs nodded as he settled back. “And I wish to watch. Go ahead.”

Tony found the request oddly arousing. He had never had an audience before. Even with the women he had bedded, his royal nannies and Tim had the decency to position themselves outside his chambers until the young lady left.

Reaching forward, Tony slipped his hands underneath Tim’s tunic, pushing it over his head. Taking Tim’s hand, he led him a few feet away from Gibbs bed. There was no mattress or coverings, only a woven tapestry covering the hard packed dirt floor.

Tony gently positioned Tim on the floor and slowly kissed him. His hand ran along Tim’s pale skin as it had so many times before. Tonight was different. There was an excitement pumping blood through his veins, knowing that Gibbs was watching them.

In a few minutes, Tony felt his cock harden and he began grinding against Tim’s thigh.

“You have done this before,” Gibbs said, his voice a bare whisper.

Tony looked up to see his host lying on his bed, hand pumping his own cock as he watched.

“We have kissed often. When he became my page, he was not given his own quarters, so he has always shared mine.”

“And your bed?”

“My bed is large and soft. It seemed a waste to force Tim to sleep on the cold, stone floor while half my bed was unused.”

“When did you lie with him the first time?”

“We have not lain together. Not as you ask,” admitted Tony. “Tim is my friend, and is like a younger brother to me.”

“You would kiss a sibling?”

“If their lips were warm on a chilly night, why not?”

“I can tell he would give himself to you. I am curious, why you have not taken what is offered?”

“I never thought to force anyone to take my cock. It does not seem right to me.”

“Wealthy men force themselves on women all the time.” Gibbs nearly growled the words.

“I am not one of those men. I have never forced myself on anyone,” Tony divulged. “It gives me no pleasure to force myself on anyone. I only want what is given to me freely.”

Gibbs moved to one side of his bed. “There is no reason you should lie on a bare floor all night. There is plenty of room for you both.”

Tony did not need to be asked twice. He was mesmerized by Gibbs and willingly climbed into his bed. Gibbs cupped Tony’s head in his hands and kissed him. Beneath the covers, he took Tony’s hand and wrapped it around his cock, then began grinding his hip and pumping his cock into Tony’s hand until he came.

When he rolled onto his back, he closed his eyes. “Tim, douse the lamps and come to bed.”

Tim slowly rose to his feet, put out the lamps, then climbed into the bed beside Tony. When the Prince rolled over, Tim could feel he was wet and sticky. His own cock instantly took notice. He remained awake for half the night wishing his cock would go limp.

As if he knew, Gibbs rolled to his side and threw an arm around Tony, who was between him and Tim. “You can do whatever you want to do here, so long as you hurt no one and do not attempt to leave the camp.”

Tim still did not feel right stroking his cock with Gibbs on the other side of the bed, so he turned away from the others, lying at the edge of the bed. Tony sidled up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist and licking his ear.

“You can take care of it now,” Tony whispered, “or I will take care of it in the morning.”


	5. An Awakening In The Forest

When Tim awoke the next morning, he had a noticeable hard on, still. Reaching down, he began pumping his shaft, then realized Gibbs was across the room, sitting at a table and assembling arrows.

“Do not stop on my account,” said Gibbs, his eyes still focused on affixing a feather to the end of an arrow.

“I was just…” Tim stammered.

“I know what you were doing. It is natural. It would be a shame to injure your shaft.”

“How would I injure it?” Tim asked.

“Walking into a tree perhaps,” Gibbs replied. Just then he snapped an arrow shaft in two before tossing it aside. “I suspect damaging your own cock would be much more painful.”

Tim swallowed. “I suppose. I usually fetch water for Prince Anthony and bring him his breakfast. Is there a well nearby, and someone I could see about food for the Prince?”

Gibbs chuckled. “The nearest well is miles away.”

“Then how is Prince Anthony expected to wash his face and scrape his beard? How do you expect to ransom him back to his father if you do not return him in his normal state of wellbeing?”

Gibbs nodded. There was something of value in allowing the Prince to maintain his normal habits. “The good Friar Duck hauls in barrels of water, wine and ale for us. You may see him if you wish.”

“And breakfast?”

“Ask the Friar. He can point you in the right direction.”

“If the Prince awakens, please tell him I will return shortly.”

“All over that,” said Gibbs as he continued with his work.

Once outside, Tim looked around to where Friar Duck had arrived the day before. The wagon carrying the barrels was still there, but the horses were tied several feet away in the makeshift stables.

Tim looked through the stalls and found the Friar sleeping atop a blanket laid across several inches of hay.

“Excuse me? Friar Duck?”

“Yes? Yes, my boy?”

“Gibbs said I should talk to you.”

Standing up, the Friar shook out his blanket and folded it. “Do you mind helping me feed the horses while we chat? Jimmy’s wife, Breena, is expecting their first child, and he wishes to be with her when the time comes. That leaves me with extra chores to do.”

“I am happy to help. I did not realize they kept so many horses here.”

“Aye. It is much faster going astride a horse.”

“Yes, it is,” Tim agreed.

“What is it you wanted to discuss?”

“Well, Friar…”

“Please, call me Ducky.”

“Okay. Ducky. I take care of Prince Anthony. In the mornings, I draw water before he wakes and I also retrieve his breakfast.”

“After we feed the horses, I can give you a bit of water, but it is a scarce commodity this far into the forest.”

“Is it true that you haul all of their water, wine and ale?”

“Aye. Along with straw, grain and hay for the horses.”

“Where do you get it all?”

“Mostly, it is donated.”

“Donated or stolen?” Tim asked.

Ducky paused and stared at Tim. “My dear boy, thieves must travel light. With this heavy wagon and my old team, I could not possibly outrun anyone.”

“What about this place? How can they pack up and move?”

“Gibbs has a few outposts scattered about. They are all similar to this one. He is a master at disguising the encampments so they are not seen by most. Even their trails through the forests are disguised and difficult to find or follow unless you know where they are.”

“So they do not pack much when they move on?”

“Very little. Any food that would spoil and a bit of clothing. Everything else is hidden away for their return.”

After the horses were fed, Ducky handed Tim a pitchfork. “If you do not mind. The work gets more difficult as I age.”

Nodding again, Tim assisted in cleaning the stalls, putting the manure and soiled straw in a bucket, and carrying it a fair distance from the camp to be dumped.

He had worked up a sweat by the time Ducky handed him a bowl and led him to one of the barrels. The bowl was smaller, and not nearly as nice as what the Prince was used to, but it would have to do.

“What about food?”

“Follow me.”

Tim followed Ducky to what passed as a communal kitchen of sorts. A handful of women were sorting out bread while others were chopping vegetables and putting them into large pots simmering over open fires.

Ducky rummaged through some of the stores and handed Tim a platter with two small loaves of rye bread and a chunk of cheese.

“There is no meat?” asked Tim.

“Not unless you or the Prince cares to hunt some game in the forest and bring it to us. Gibbs keeps everyone on strict rations. We rely on donated foods and often the people have little to give.”

“Gibbs was making arrows. Does he not hunt?”

“Aye. He hunts quite a bit. And then he gives it to those less fortunate,” Ducky explained.

“Gibbs and his followers do not appear to be terribly fortunate themselves. They have no way to grow their own food and they are being searched for by the sheriff and any number of bounty hunters. I have seen the reward posters.”

“Gibbs never fails to supply the basic needs for his followers. And his concerns lie more with others than with his own comforts.”

“I see.”

After bidding good day to Ducky, Tim returned to Gibbs’ cottage and found Tony sitting at the table with Gibbs. They were both attaching feathers to the ends of arrows. Gibbs suddenly snapped another shaft in half, tossing it aside.

“What was wrong with that one?” Tony asked.

“When you have shot as many arrows as I have, you learn the look of a shaft that will fly straight and one that will not.”

Tony chuckled. “And you prefer the straight ones, made from hardwood?”

Gibbs joined him in his laughter, then leaned close enough to nuzzle Tony’s neck. “I prefer both my arrows and my cocks straight and hard.”

“Are these cock feathers you use to make the shafts fly straight?”

“We use various feathers. Most are from geese. They are easier to obtain than some and they do a fine job. If you watch an archer closely, you may realize that arrows tend to fly in arcs rather than straight lines. And in fact, they spin as they fly. This is why it is important to have the feathers match as closely as possible. If they are different sizes or are not attached properly, your arrow may fail to hit your target.”

“I have been taught a bit of archery. At least enough to go on the royal hunts. I was taught to defend myself with a sword and dagger.”

“And you consider yourself a fine swordsman?” Gibbs asked.

“I have been practicing for years. I am better at handling a sword than most.”

“I imagine you are.”

Tim cleared his throat and placed the bowl of water and the plate of bread and cheese on the table. “I brought the water for your morning ablutions, my Prince. The food is for all of us.”

“No ale?” asked Tony.

“I will return with the ale before you have finished shaving your whiskers.” Tim bowed before leaving again.

“Are you really going to make him wait on you as if you were still in a castle?”

“It is his place as my squire. Tim needs routines. You will see, he gets flustered easily if a routine is broken. Do you have a blade that I could use to scrape my whiskers? My possessions were on our packhorse, which you allowed to run away.”

Gibbs grabbed a knife and tossed it hard enough that it stuck in the table in front of Tony.

“You do not fear that I have a sharp blade within my reach?” Tony questioned.

“I have a hundred weapons close at hand,” Gibbs disclosed.

“Still, you believe I will not harm you, given the opportunity?”

“You have yet to prove your fighting skills to me,” said Gibbs as he began moving the arrows and materials out of their way.

“You are willing to take such a chance?”

Even as Tony held the knife in his hand, Gibbs quickly and easily took the Prince down to the floor, disarming him as he did so. “I do not think you have much of a chance, Prince.”

“I was not expecting you to attack.”

“Few enemies will give you advanced warning.” Reaching out his hand, Gibbs helped Tony right his chair and put the blade back in his hand. “I am surprised you do not grow a beard,” Gibbs said as he took his own seat.

“My father believes beard-wearing is for those who cannot afford a proper shaving blade.”

Gibbs placed a cup beside Tony. “It is a lather that Friar Duck makes. It helps with a clean and pain-free shave.”

“As long as the blade is sharp, I shall be fine.”

Gibbs smirked. “I keep all my blades sharp. A man is not a threat against his enemies if his blade will not puncture their skin.”

Tim returned with three mugs of ale in time to see Gibbs dabbing at the Prince’s face.

“Did you cut yourself, Your Highness?” Tim asked with concern. “I can make a poultice to stop the bleeding.”

Gibbs waved him off. “I have it taken care of. Sit down. Eat.” Gibbs broke the bread into chunks, then sliced the cheese and offered it to his guests.

“No meat?” questioned Tony.

“There is not enough meat for every meal,” Gibbs explained.

Tony was disappointed. “There is at the castle.”

“Once the King pays your ransom, you will return to your castle with your bathing tubs, clean clothes and meat at every meal.”

“I had not mentioned a bathing tub.”

Gibbs reached for his ale. “It was only a matter of time.”

Tony’s smile soon returned. “My tub is large enough for two.”

“Aye. The way the wealthy eat, you will need a tub large enough for two people in no time.”

Looking down, Tony lifted his tunic and patted his stomach. “I am not fat.”

Gibbs smirked and reached out to cup Tony’s chin. “Yet.”

“Do you have a place to practice your archery skills?”

“We have a practice field nearby.”

“Will you allow me to shoot a bow and arrow, Gibbs?”

“If you wish, Prince.”

Reaching over, Tony picked up an arrow he had worked on. “I would like to see how it flies; one that I put together myself. Can they be reused once fired?”

“Sometimes, if the shaft is not broken or damaged. We usually practice by shooting into bales of straw. It is difficult to dislodge an arrow from a tree without damaging it.”

“Or one used for hunting, I would imagine.”

“If you missed your shot and the arrow is found on the ground, it is usually fine. Once it hits an animal, or a man, there is a difficulty in attempting to remove it intact and there is also the nasty business of blood.”

“I would imagine that you rarely miss a shot,” Tony ventured.

“My arrows are true,” replied Gibbs, taking more bread.

After they ate, Gibbs gathered several arrows into a quiver and brought along his bow. “Come.”

“How will I know if you give me an arrow you put together, or one that I assembled?”

Gibbs chuckled lightly. “I can tell the difference.”

They made a stop at a shed near where the horses were kept, where Gibbs picked up a couple other bows, with quivers of arrows. He handed one set each to Tim and to Tony. They followed him as they walked a narrow path through the trees for quite a distance until the forest path opened up to a glade. Other archers were already there, shooting arrows at the targets. 

The targets were animal skins stretched across bales of straw. Each had a bullseye drawn on the center and most had other drawings, as well. Most were deer, or other animals, but Tony saw a couple he was certain were likenesses of Sheriff Vance.

“How often do you practice?”

“We shoot quite often. That is the best way to hone and maintain one’s skill,” said Gibbs as he lined up a shot, then released an arrow.

Tim and Tony watched the arrow soar toward the target, hitting the center.

Stepping forward, Tony settled the notch of the arrow onto the bow string, pulling it taut. “You make it look easy, Gibbs.”

“It is easy, if you have the skill.”

Tony released the arrow. It hit the target, but was far to one side.

“Not bad, Prince,” said Gibbs.

“But I need more practice?” asked Tony as he took a few steps toward the bales of straw, meaning to retrieve his arrow. 

Gibbs quickly grabbed his arm. “More practice first. And do not walk down the field while anyone is shooting.”

“I am surprised you think someone would miss a target by that much. That is what you meant, right? Beware of bad shots?”

“Aye. You never know when someone will fire wildly. A bow or string could snap. An archer may be startled suddenly, and release their arrow unintentionally and not properly aimed. It would be a terrible tragedy to shoot someone during practice.”

“I shall endeavor to make sure none of your group feels that pain while I am enjoying your hospitality.”

“Your hide is valuable, Prince, but worth more if still alive and without punctures.”

“I would imagine that if I died in your care, my father would send all his men to burn down the forest and kill anyone attempting to escape.”

“I would hate to put him to so much trouble,” teased Gibbs as he motioned for Tim to step forward and take a shot.

“We are your prisoners, and yet you arm us?” asked Tim. “What is to prevent me from aiming for your heart?”

“My team keeps a careful watch over me, and they are extremely protective. The moment you begin to point an arrow at me, you would find yourself a target. My followers are well trained and sure of their shots. You would be dead before you released an arrow.”

Tim gulped deeply and eyed the other archers. It was true that many who were not actually taking aim for the targets themselves at that moment, were keeping an eye on Gibbs and his guests. Tim’s hand shook slightly and his shot went wide of the target.

“Focus, Tim. Think of your very life depending on each shot. Take your time. Settle your breathing. Shoot only when you are sure of your target.”

Tim nodded quickly.

Walking up behind Tim, Gibbs shifted him into position, pressing against him with his own body. His lips were near Tim’s ear as he said softly. “Relax your shoulders, breathe steadily. When you are ready to shoot, hold your breath and release the arrow.”

With assistance from Gibbs, Tim’s arrow hit the target slightly above the center.

Grinning, Tony asked, “Are you going to help me aim a shot, Gibbs?”

“Would you like me to, Prince?”

“Yes. You appear to be an excellent teacher.”

As Gibbs centered himself behind Tony, he pressed his cock forward.

“Shall I shoot where your cock is pointed?” Tony teased.

“Not unless you want a pain in your ass,” Gibbs quickly replied.

“I meant, in that direction.”

“Just focus on the target for now.”

“You tend to be a distraction.”

“Are you such a pain in the ass with your other instructors?” questioned Gibbs, as he lightly smacked the back of Tony’s head.

“Hey, now. And none of my teachers are as attractive as you. You should see Sir Tobias. Bald as can be. I like my men with hair. My ladies, too.”

“Sir Tobias Fornell?” Gibbs asked.

“Yes. He is a knight in my father’s court and instructs me in archery, amongst other subjects. Do you know of him?”

Gibbs laughed lightly. “He married my former wife, Diane.”

“I do not think he is married any longer. I know of no wife he has within the castle walls.”

“That does not surprise me. She refused to live this life in the forest. She wanted a home and a husband there to care for her. I imagine she tired of Tobias riding off to battles, and finally married a shopkeeper or farmer who would be home each night.”

The trio continued taking turns firing arrows at the target. After a few minutes, the shooting stopped and most of the archers walked across the field to retrieve the arrows.

Practice went on well into the morning. Finally Gibbs nodded to the path leading back to the encampment. Again, everyone sat at the long tables as the women set food before them. Tim and Tony were pleased to see some meat supplied.

“Wild hare?” Tony asked.

Gibbs nodded. “It is less trouble to shoot them than to keep and feed them.”

“I am pleased you do not feel the same way about me.”

Smiling, Gibbs reached out and touched Tony’s cheek. “Do not doubt that you are trouble, Your Highness, but a good sort of trouble.”

“I will bet I am far more fun to have around than a rabbit.”

“We shall see.”

“I wish you had captured my packhorse. Not only did it carry my clothes and other personal items, but we also had much food packed for our trip.”

“Your horses will have returned to the castle by now.”

“You said you sent a ransom demand. Have you received any word from my father?”

“Not yet.”

“Nothing? How long must I stay here?” Tony asked.

“As long as it takes,” Gibbs replied sharply.

“Was the messenger sent on horse or on foot? The sooner he receives the message, the quicker my father will reply and send payment.”

“I was hoping you were enjoying my hospitality.”

“I have business to attend to,” Tony insisted.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. “Is there a ballroom dance coming up soon?”

“You mock me?”

“Is there a reason to mock a man in fine clothing prancing around a hall while the common people are starving and struggling to survive? You have never known true hunger.”

“You will have me believe that your taking me hostage will solve their problems?”

“It is simple as I see it,” said Gibbs. “The wealthy have more than they need and do little for it. Giving a small portion of what they have will make a great difference to the poor.”

“And if they will not give it on their own, you will kindly lift it from them?”

“I can redistribute it and it will change lives and possibly save lives. It can give children of the poor a chance to survive into adulthood.”

“And for what?” Tony asked. “To have more children they cannot afford to feed?”

“By that thinking, there is no reason for the poor to live at all. Their lives are a struggle, but their joys are worth the hardships. Without the poor, where would the wealthy be?”

“You think the wealthy need the poor?”

Gibbs nodded slowly and looked Tony in the eye. “Without the poor, who would grow the food, toil in the fields, care for the animals, make your clothing and wait on you hand and foot?”

“By your reasoning, the wealthy give the poor a purpose for their lives.”

“No, there are many who take advantage of the poor and cause them misery.”

“They govern the poor. They supply the land and structure to society,” said Tony.

“They abuse the poor. They rape the women and break the backs of men.”

“Without the wealthy, the poor would run amok.” Tony raised his voice slightly and pounded the table as his anger grew.

“Without the poor, the wealthy would not survive since they would refuse to lift a finger to help themselves. Most have no real skills. They would not be able to plant fields or bring in a harvest. They could not sew their own clothing nor make their own food. The poor can provide for their families. What is killing them are the high rents and taxes demanded by the wealthy.”

Tony thought for a moment. Looking at the loaf of bread, he realized that it was true. He had no idea how to make bread himself.

Gibbs leaned closer, putting his hand over the Prince’s. “You do not know how to make bread, ale or cheese. Do you?”

“I do not,” Tony admitted.

“Nor do you know how to shear a sheep or make thread for clothing.”

“You would have me believe that if the poor were suddenly gone, I would be running around naked and pulling berries from trees?”

Gibbs smiled at the thought. “You would have to learn to care for yourself. If you were a poor man, you would already know these things.”

Turning around, Tony faced Tim. “Do you know how to make bread, cheese and ale?”

“I know how to grind grain for bread and have watched my mother and sister make it. I have made cheese for my mother, and ale with my father,” Tim said.

“And can you shear a sheep?” Tony asked.

“I have done so, although I am not greatly skilled at the task.”

Turning back to Gibbs, Tony said, “Tim will take care of me. And I have hunted before.”

Gibbs laughed aloud. “On these hunts, have you located and tracked the prey yourself or did a poor servant do those things for you?”

Tony stared silently at Gibbs.

“We do not simply wait in the forest for animals to come forth and give themselves to us willingly. When you truly are a hunter, you must read the signs. You must be able to tell how old an animal’s tracks and feces are, and you must know how to track the animal even if there are no prints to be seen. You must be patient, and a good shot, or you will starve. What you have done is shot at an animal that someone else has tracked and located for you. They might as well have handed it to you on a silver platter.”

“I study. My craft is to be a leader of men. I have faced battle and have come out unscathed.”

“No doubt your father sent several knights to ride with you as your personal guards. While other men battle, the knights are there only for your protection. If you are killed, no doubt their lives are forfeit due to their failure. You have no sense of being a common man.”

“I am not a common man,” Tony declared loudly.

“Until you understand the common man, how do you expect to lead and govern them? The wealthy sit in their ivory towers with a skewed view of the world. If you walked in the world of the common man for even a fortnight, you would gain such knowledge you could never acquire from a book.”

“Will you teach me?”

“I can try.”


	6. Two Roads Diverged In A Wood

 

After the midday meal, Tony asked Tim about where he got the water and food earlier in the morning. Tim led the way to the stables, greeting Friar Duck when they arrived.

Tony eyed the Friar suspiciously. “Are you the messenger sent to alert my father of my capture?”

“No, I am not. I was on my way here when you were captured. I am pleased to see you are well, Prince Anthony.”

“Why are you here?” Tony asked.

“He brings them water, wine and ale in barrels and also hauls in feed, bedding and livestock,” Tim explained.

Tony walked slowly, patting the horses as he passed them and inspecting the pigs and sheep in the small pens. “You surprise me, Friar Duck.”

“How so, my Prince?”

“By helping these outlaws.”

“My dear boy, it is all a matter of perspective. I have devoted my life to helping those in need. What Gibbs and his followers do is help the poor. It sickens me that all the money given to the church is spent on buying fine things for the cardinals and priests. That money should be spent on easing the pain of the people.”

“There will always be pain and suffering,” said Tony.

“More so for the poor, than for the wealthy.”

“Disease attacks us all.”

“True, but the poor suffer from an insufficient diet, with little or nothing to eat, and weakened bodies from all the labor they do. They cannot afford to have a physician tend to them or provide them with medicine.”

“There are so many people. You cannot save them all.”

Ducky nodded. “Aye, but we can save some of them. Like Gibbs, I have also taken a vow of poverty, and a vow to help and protect others.”

“By helping him, you target yourself as a criminal.”

Ducky chuckled. “Me? A criminal? I deliver donated goods to those in need. I have stolen nothing from anyone.”

“You know that Gibbs and his band are wanted outlaws and yet you help to feed and hide them.”

“I have witnessed no crimes,” Ducky insisted.

“Then you walk with blinders on.”

“But I tread on solid ground, my boy.”

“Meaning?” asked Tony.

“I know the path I am to take and I am on it. You, my dear boy, I believe are still looking for the path you are meant to travel in this lifetime. Gibbs may have done you a favor by unhorsing you.”

“How so?”

“He has forced you to slow down and see what is around you. Life moves by so swiftly as you trot along on that beautiful white stallion of yours. He could do you a service by taking your shoes, so you would slow down further and feel every pebble and twig you come across.”

“And walking on twigs and pebbles will help me?” Tony wondered.

“Perhaps. A wise man once put a pebble in his shoe so he could better understand the struggles of others. Walking barefooted through the forest may help you to become more sympathetic to the struggles of others, as well. Your life will be far richer if you serve the people you govern, when you are king, rather than expecting them to serve you.”

“That sounds like something Gibbs would say.”

“Aye,” Ducky agreed. “That it does.”

“So all these animals, the horses, pigs, chickens and sheep, are all donated?”

“For the most part. Some are purchased with monetary donations. Some of Gibbs’ followers brought what they had and donated everything, including their animals, to the cause.”

Tim demonstrated to Tony how to remove the top of the barrel and ladle water into the bowl.

“There is no sense in filling it all the way,” explained Tim. “If there is too much water in the bowl, you will only spill it.”

“Good tip. And where would we find the food?”

Tim led the way to where the women watched over the cooking fires. “It smells good, does it not?”

Tony crinkled his nose. “Sure, great.”

The women laughed. 

“What sort of pottage is this?” Tony asked as he peered into a large cauldron.

“That is the wash,” he was informed by one of the cooks, who seemed amused by his mistake. “Dinner will be a nice mutton stew. It is in honor of Your Highness’ stay with us.”

“I appreciate your hospitality,” he said, tactfully.

As Tony and Tim walked away, they surveyed the edge of the encampment. 

“We should attempt an escape while they are not watching us so closely,” whispered Tim.

“You would not get very far,” a woman’s voice said.

Tim froze in place wondering where the voice was coming from. A moment later, a knife was thrown close to him, landing solidly in a nearby tree trunk. A woman dropped from a branch of a tree to retrieve the knife.

“I am Ziva, one of the perimeter guards. You will not get past me,” she promised. “And if you try, I shall have to wound you and drag you back.”

Tim swallowed deeply. “That hardly seems worth it, then.”

Tony nodded back toward the main part of the camp, and Tim immediately followed. 

“We are doomed,” Tim said.

Tony rolled his eyes. “We will be fine. My father will send the ransom and we will be away from here soon enough. Until then, we will survive on these people’s hospitality. Tell me something, Tim.”

“Yes, my Prince?”

“Is this the sort of food you ate before you came to the castle to live?”

“Oh yes. We were fortunate and our farm did well.”

“It is so much cheese and bread and so few meats, sweets or any real variety.”

“That is true, but that is all the poor can afford. Gibbs is correct that families must survive on what they grow. And they have to give much of it to the landowner and more to the royal family.”

A short time later, Tim followed Tony back to visit Friar Duck once more. “Friar,” Tony began, “Would you allow me a taste of wine?”

Ducky grabbed a jug and filled it with wine before handing it over to the Prince. “Fortunately for you, this crowd has more of a taste for ale than wine, which leaves plenty of wine for you and me.”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“It is my pleasure to serve you, Prince Anthony.”

As they returned to Gibbs’ cottage, Tim asked, “What did you want the wine for?”

“If I am to be stuck in this place, I see no reason to not enjoy what little comforts they have available here.”

Tony uncorked the jug and took a swig, then offered it to Tim. “Go on. It will make you feel better.”

“I am not sure about that,” Tim responded, remembering the first time he got sick from drinking too much wine.

“Not bad,” said Tony.

The pair drank a little wine, then crawled into Gibbs’ bed, falling asleep beside each other.

A couple hours later, Gibbs went to wake the pair. Leaning over the bed, he brushed back Tony’s bangs and lightly kissed his forehead. As the Prince began to stir, Gibbs planted a kiss on Tim’s temple.

“Time for supper and the night’s entertainment.”

Tony giggled. “If we were in the castle, we might have an evening of knights’ entertainment.”

“I have never found Tobias to be all that entertaining,” Gibbs said.

“It is true that the knights are usually a serious bunch, but after a few chalices of wine, they are quick to laugh and are known to tell a dirty story or two. We have actors, too. They recently performed a play about you.”

“Did they? And what was this play about?” questioned Gibbs.

“They portrayed you and your band of robbers as attacking the wealthy in the forest and taking their money and jewels.”

“How did it end?”

“Sheriff Vance hunted you down, dragged you back to the castle and had you hanged.”

“Let us hope that ending remains a fictional portrayal. Mutton stew, in your honor, my Prince” said Gibbs, with a slight bow.

“I never know when you are being serious or mocking me, Gibbs.”

“I like to keep you guessing, Prince.”

“Any word from my father?” 

“Not yet. Perhaps he is counting out his money.”

Tony rose from the bed. “He has people to do that for him.”

“I am certain that he does,” Gibbs agreed.

At supper, Tony asked if he and Tim could be served wine instead of ale. “I detest mixing the two,” said Tony. “It always causes my stomach grief.”

“And Tim?” Gibbs questioned.

“It makes him spew like a royal fountain,” Tony divulged.

The pair laughed easily together. When it turned dark and Tony shivered, Gibbs closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around the Prince’s shoulder.

“The evening often brings a chill. You should dress more warmly,” suggested Gibbs.

“How can I? You allowed my packhorse to run off with my extra clothing.”

“Are you planning to whine about your runaway packhorse for the rest of your stay with us?”

“It may seem like nothing to you, but to me it is a hardship to be without my basic necessities.”

“Then you may be well on your way to understanding what other people must face on a daily basis.”

Tony settled his head against Gibbs’ shoulder. “Sure, it is a wonderful experience.”

“It can be, if you allow it to be.”

They watched into the evening as Gibbs’ followers recited poems, performed acts from plays, told jokes and sang songs to entertain each other. Well before they were done, Tony nodded off against Gibbs’ shoulder.

It was a cool, clear night full of stars shining above them. As Gibbs’ followers began to drift away, heading for their own beds, Tim shook Tony’s knee. “Prince? It is time to go inside.”

“I can carry him if needed,” said Gibbs as he pulled Tony to his feet.

Tony wrapped his arms around Gibbs’ neck and kissed him fully on the lips. “Sweet. You taste like wine and mutton stew.”

Gibbs smiled. “It is time for you to go to bed.”

“Are you coming with me?”

“Yes, we are all going to bed.”

After pulling Tony’s arms from his neck, Gibbs put an arm around Tony’s waist and guided him back to the cottage.

“And tonight, you two cannot sleep in your clothing.”

“It is all we have,” Tim pointed out.

“If you are here long enough, perhaps we will work on that. But for now, you cannot continue to wear the same clothing day after day without removing it. It is beginning to smell.”

Gibbs undressed and used a small towel and a bowl of water to wash his body. “You two should undress and clean yourselves before coming to bed. Tomorrow, I shall see if there is any spare clothing around that might fit you.”

Gibbs settled into bed and watched as the pair undressed. Lamplight flickered as Tim washed Tony before attending to himself. They used the same water and towel that Gibbs had used, neither one complaining about it.

Tony took the middle of the bed again, snuggling up against Gibbs, leaving Tim the other side of the bed.

“Do you think you will hear from my father tomorrow?”

Placing his arm around Tony, Gibbs pulled him close, kissing his temple, but did not say a word.

When he awoke the next morning, Tony found himself wrapped in Gibbs strong arms. Tender kisses peppered his neck until he giggled softly.

“What if Tim wakes up?” 

Gibbs looked over Tony, to Tim, still asleep on the far side of the bed. “He does normally awaken before you. Shall I check to see that he still breathes?”

“He is still breathing. A night of drinking wine allows him to sleep later the next morning.”

“Then perhaps we should give him wine more often,” suggested Gibbs.

“Are you saying you would like more time alone with me?”

“It is a rare commodity with your squire around.”

“It is his responsibility to be at my side, to care for my needs and to protect me.”

Gibbs chuckled lightly. “Yet you find yourself captured.”

“Captured, at your mercy, naked and in your bed.” Looking into Gibbs’ eyes, Tony smiled and rubbed his arm, before moving on to his chest. “I do find myself attracted to you.”

“If only your father could see you now.”

Tony groaned. “I would hope not. I would hate to find myself in a position of Prince Edmund.”

“What position did Prince Edmund find himself in?” asked Gibbs.

“The rumor is, Edmund had a male lover, one to whom he gave a job of consul. His father did not approve and tossed Edmund’s lover out a window to his death.”

“Tragic. Is that why you have not bedded Tim?”

Turning, Tony looked at his peacefully sleeping squire. “He was just a boy when he was given to me.”

“He loves you deeply. I can see it in his eyes,” Gibbs revealed.

“Tim is driven by duty.”

“It is more than that. I see lust in his eyes. He wants to be with you.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes, I do.”

“He has never said as much, although he does seem to take pleasure in stroking my cock when I allow him to do so.”

“Is he allowed to do so often?”

“When I am too lazy to take care of it myself,” Tony admitted with a smile. “He has shared my bed since he came to stay with me.”

“Really? And your father is aware of this?”

“I have no idea. I had three royal nannies before Tim was given to me. They each had their own quarters. Tim said he was not given any quarters, so I assumed he was meant to stay with me around the clock. I saw no reason to make him sleep on a stone floor when I had such a large bed.”

“You show more kindness than most of the royals.”

“My nannies taught me to think of others. My mother was kind to others as well. I learned from her example.”

“Your father has had little influence on you?”

“I saw him only rarely, except for meals and banquets, until after my mother died. Then there was a time he decided I should attend his court when they discussed battles and taxes. He said it was time I learned what it meant to be a king.”

“And he has taught you to rule over others?” wondered Gibbs.

Tony thought for a moment before he answered. “He mostly asks me to sit in silence while he speaks with his advisers.”

“So you have learned nothing?”

“I have instructors. I have been taught many things including battle tactics. He has made me a commander.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No. My father married several times after my mother died, but he never fathered another child.”

“He is protective of you. If you are killed in battle, his line dies with you.”

“This trip Tim and I were taking was to meet a princess. My father means to marry me to align two kingdoms.”

“That is the way of the royals. It would not do for you to marry a common woman.”

“I have seen the women my father has married. I do not see love in their eyes. At some point he tires of them and they are killed or divorced. I do not wish to live like that. He says it is not safe for me to be outside the castle grounds. I am to have Tim taste my food in case it has been poisoned.”

“You have not done so here.”

“I have seen the food prepared. I see nothing being tampered with between the cooking area and the table. It also would not do for you to try to ransom a corpse. I imagine my father will not pay unless he is assured I am still alive.”

“Although he may not pay for a corpse, I would think he would want you back dead or alive.”

“Much as Sheriff Vance wants you?” Tony asked.

“And now you are mocking me?” 

“Not at all. I want you, too. But only alive.”

“Do you intend to tease me still?”

“I am not teasing you at all,” said Tony as he leaned forward to kiss Gibbs. “What must I do to prove to you that I am not?”

“Allow me to take you.”

“I will allow it,” Tony replied before kissing Gibbs again. 

Breaking the kiss, Gibbs went across the room to retrieve some oil and used it to slick his cock as Tony watched with interest.

“Why do you think my father would want my corpse?” Tony asked.

“To give you a proper burial, of course. And perhaps to be assured that you are indeed dead and not living as a criminal in these woods yourself.”

“That is an interesting thought. You are a very well-proportioned man, Gibbs,” Tony said, admiring him from across the room.

“As are you.”

“Then I suppose we should fit perfectly together.”

After rubbing some oil on his hands, Gibbs returned to the bed. “And this is your interest in me? My body?”

“I find you to be a very fascinating man.”

“How so?”

“You are so dedicated to your cause. You have given up everything, live as if you have taken a vow of poverty, yet you are no monk.”

“No, I am not.”

Rolling Tony over, Gibbs rubbed oil around his hole, then began to massage his back.

“That feels nice,” said Tony, closing his eyes.

“Have you been with a man before?”

“I have been with many men.”

“Have you ever taken another man’s cock inside?”

Twisting his neck, Tony looked Gibbs in the eyes. “Never.”

“So you share Tim’s lack of experience in this?”

“Teach me.”

Gibbs took his time, as he rubbed Tony’s skin with oiled hands. He made sure to massage down each arm and took care to note each of Tony’s ticklish spots. After several minutes, he relaxed and Gibbs pressed a finger into Tony’s hole.

When Tony pushed back against the finger, so Gibbs added another. “You are ready,” he whispered.

Tony turned far enough that they could share another kiss.

Gibbs lined up his cock and pressed in. Pausing for a moment, he gauged Tony’s reaction. 

Tony reached back and placed his hand on Gibbs’ thigh. “It is good,” he said softly.

Gibbs wrapped his arm around Tony, settling his hand on his stomach, holding him in place. He kept his thrusts slow at first and noticed that Tony had begun to stroke his own cock.

Keeping their bodies close to each other, Gibbs pressed his lips to the back of Tony’s neck, alternating between kissing, licking and sucking. Moving slightly, he nipped at Tony’s earlobe.

Tony shifted his position until he felt Gibbs rubbing against his prostate. He twined his fingers with Gibbs’ hand that was pressed against his stomach. Tugging the calloused hand slightly, he brought it to his mouth and kissed it. 

When he felt his orgasm was close, Gibbs shook his hand loose from the Prince’s and he reached for Tony’s cock. The Prince allowed Gibbs to pump his cock until he came. Gibbs wrapped his arms around Tony’s body and held him close as he climaxed. 

Afterward, Gibbs released Tony and rolled onto his back. 

“Was it worth it?” Tony asked.

“Definitely, yes,” said Gibbs as he breathed heavily.

Sidling over, Tony moved his head to Gibbs’ shoulder, laying his hand on Gibbs’ stomach. “If my father ever finds out what you have just done, he will have your hide.”

“I hope you did not allow me to do this only to piss off your father.”

“No. I was curious what sort of a lover you would be.”

“Am I a lover worthy of a prince?”

“You have certainly proven yourself to this one.”


	7. The Road Less Traveled By

 

Tim awoke and looked over to see Tony cuddling against Gibbs, chatting softly. His first instinct was to turn away, attempting to pretend he was still asleep. Tony was not buying it.

Reaching over, Tony shook Tim’s arm. “Come with me.”

Gibbs watched as the pair got out of bed, dressed and left the cottage. 

“Do you like Gibbs?” asked Tim.

Tony smiled.

“You do! I can see it in your eyes,” Tim observed.

“He is an amazing man.”

“He is holding us captive.”

“That he is.” Tony stopped walking and faced Tim. “You come from a family that is not wealthy, correct?”

“We are not as poor as some. We have much good land and several animals.”

“Your family does not struggle to survive?”

Tim slowly shook his head. “We do not. There is much work to do, but there is always plenty of food on our table. In bountiful years, we are able to give some food to others who are less fortunate.”

“How do you find them?”

“Some we know or hear about from friends, the church or around the nearest village. Sometimes we sell our surplus to the shops in the nearby towns. People there have no land to farm. Those who often struggle the most are either too old or too ill to work, or they are children whose parents have died, leaving them homeless orphans,” explained Tim.

“Who cares for these people?”

“They may beg for help. Some farmers who are having a good year may help them. Shopkeepers may give them old food that they can no longer sell. Some ask for help at the church.”

“Do you approve of what Gibbs and his band of outlaws is doing?” Tony asked.

“I have not really thought it through. It is good that he helps the poor, but I am not certain he is right to steal from the wealthy.”

Tony raised his eyebrows.

“He is right behind me, is he not?” Tim asked.

Gibbs spoke softly. “Is it right that the wealthy take everything from the poor?”

“They are allowed to do so by law,” stammered Tim.

“The wealthy write the laws. It does not make them right. Consider this forest as my domain and the money I take a toll to traverse the woods. Then I am the same as them.”

Tim considered Gibbs’ words.

“Why are they allowed to make the laws and determine the tax?” asked Gibbs. “It is only because their ancestors were strong and took more land than others. They took all the land, but many were too lazy to work it so they forced the poor to scratch out a meager living by doing all the work and paying the wealthy for that privilege.” 

Tony looked at Tim. “Is it right that I am born a prince and you were not? You serve me only because of who my father is and who your father is. Gibbs’ words make sense to me. I am probably only a prince because my ancestors were great warriors and leaders. It is nothing that I have done. It is for no reason beyond being born the son of a king. And what of you, Gibbs? Were you born wealthy or poor?”

“My father is a shopkeeper. He made enough money to keep us fed.”

“And you left to become a soldier?” Tony asked.

“I did. I fought in many battles.”

“But you were not rewarded with land of your own?”

“No. Vance was rewarded with some land and also his job as sheriff. The rest of us were given nothing more than our contracted pay. Some believe Vance was intended to share what he was given.”

“It hardly seems worth it to risk your life as a soldier.”

“The worst thing about being a soldier was when we were ordered to kill women and children, to wipe out complete families and sometimes complete towns,” Gibbs divulged, his eyes staring into the distance as the painful memories danced before him.

Tony shook his head. “I have been in war, but only saw the men who fought.”

“We were ordered to do many horrible things. And we did as we were ordered without ever questioning it.” 

“And that is why you do what you do?” Tony asked. “You mean to make amends for your actions?”

“Perhaps,” said Gibbs.

Tim and Tony stood and watched as Gibbs quickly walked away from them.

“Let us begin our day,” said Tony.

Tim followed him toward the stables. The pair were greeted by Ducky and set about pulling a bowl of water to share for their morning ablutions. Minutes later, they stopped to get a plate of food, then returned to Gibbs’ cottage.

“This is not a bad life,” Tony commented. “Friar Duck brings water, wine and ale. They have a whole forest of animals to kill for food. Everything else is donated to them. It is peaceful out here.”

“Still, we are held here as captives,” Tim reminded him.

“It will only be for a short time. I envy the simplicity of their lives. You said before that you knew how to make bread?”

“I have seen my mother and sister make bread,” replied Tim. “I have helped by grinding the grain for them.”

“I would like you to teach this skill to me.”

“My Prince?”

“What would happen to me if my father’s kingdom was ever overrun? What if I escaped, but had to survive on my own? I wish to learn to survive, like Gibbs does. I want to know how to draw my own water, make my own bread and track animals.”

“I would still stand beside you,” Tim assured him.

Tony patted Tim’s shoulder. “I know. You have a great sense of duty which may be more than I deserve. If I am to be a king someday, I want the people I rule to respect me, not fear me. Perhaps one day I will make bread with my own hands and give it to people who need it.”

“That would be something.”

“First, I must learn to do for myself. Then I shall learn to do for others.”

After they finished their morning ablutions, and eating their meager rations of cheese, bread and ale, they returned to the food preparation area. Tim ventured forth to speak to one of the older women. She listened to his words, then looked at Tony and chuckled as she wiped her hands on her apron.

Tim waved for Tony to follow as the woman led them to a wooden table where other women were working. She pointed out the mortar and pestle sets to Tim, then to the bags of grain.

Tim grabbed two mortar and pestle sets, handing one to Tony. They each found a place at the table and were given some grain to work. Several of the ladies giggled, watching as the Prince began grinding the grain.

An empty bowl was set in front of Tony. 

“You will need to fill this to have enough flour for a loaf of bread,” he was told.

They were still grinding grain into flour when Abby appeared. “You guys! I could not believe it when I was told you two were grinding grain.”

Tim nodded to Tony. “He wishes to learn to be self-sufficient.”

“That is an odd goal for a prince.”

“I am no better than any other man,” Tony said. “Why should I not have the same knowledge?”

Abby smiled. “Just to let you know, normally it is the women who grind the flour and make the bread.”

Frowning, Tony stared into his bowl. “Surely there are men in the world who make their own bread.”

“There are,” Abby assured him. “Town bakers, for instance, and monks. But in a family setting, it would be women’s work.”

“I still wish to learn these things,” insisted Tony. “I should know how to survive. Just in case something terrible ever happened.”

“That is a sound ambition,” said Abby. “I have brought some herbs. You can use them in your bread. It will change the flavor in subtle ways you may enjoy.”

“I noticed the breads are a different color, texture and flavor than what is served in the castle.”

“People make whatever sort of bread they can afford,” Tim explained. “This is common bread of most people. Money is of no concern in the castle, so only the best and rarest ingredients are used for the royal loaves.”

Hours later, Tony grinned as his first loaf of bread had been formed, allowed to rise, then baked in a stone and clay oven before being set out to cool. Abby brought it to him with a mug of ale and watched as he tore off a chunk and took his first bite.

“Is it amazing?” she asked.

“It is amazing that I took grain and made flour, then added a bit of ale, spices and herbs, and now it has become something that I can eat. It is such a fascinating process. I wonder who ever figured out how to make bread in the first place.”

“I do not know.”

Tony tore off another chuck of his bread and handed it to Abby. “Please, taste it and tell me what you think.”

She chewed slowly and nodded. “It is quite good.”

Tony then tore off another chunk and handed it to Tim. “Do you think they can teach me to make cheese?”

“Perhaps, if you wish it. Making cheese is a long process. With aging, it can take months,” Tim suggested.

“Months?”

“It must age. The flavor differs depending on how long it is aged.”

“How long are the royal cheeses aged?” Tony asked.

“I am not certain,” Tim replied. “Probably twelve to eighteen months.”

“Wow, that long?”

“I am only guessing. The cheeses we have eaten here are more likely aged only a month or so.”

“What about ale making?”

“Ale also requires an aging process.”

“Perhaps I should wait to learn those things until we have returned to the castle. I am certain the ransom payment will come through any day and we shall be released.”

After they finished eating, Tim followed Tony in search of Gibbs. They found him on the archery range and joined him.

“Your shooting improves each day, Your Highness,” said Gibbs.

“Then you are a fine teacher and I am an excellent student,” Tony responded.

Gibbs stood close behind Tony, rubbing his cock against Tony’s ass as he reached around, assisting Tony to aim. “I have many more things I can teach you,” Gibbs whispered close to his ear.

Tim watched as Gibbs rubbed up against Tony from behind and nibbled at his ear.

Gibbs licked a trail up the rim of Tony’s ear. “You should take him. He has the look of jealousy in his eyes.”

Tony giggled, then glanced at Tim. “It is as if there are arrows in his eyes, pointed directly at you.”

“I believe he is just frustrated from his desire to be bedded by you. If he has dedicated his life to you and you have not taken him, I must believe he is still a virgin.”

Tim pulled back his arrow and released it, watching as it missed the target.

“At first I thought he lacked focus,” whispered Gibbs. “But now I think he is completely focused on you.”

Tony giggled as Gibbs wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed him.

Tim missed another shot.

“Come on, McSquire,” said Tony. “You are to protect me. How can you protect me if you continue to miss the target?”

“I do not believe the bales of straw are planning to attack you,” Tim responded as he aimed again.

“Yes, but if they were, they would have had me by now.”

“Take a deep breath and focus,” Gibbs offered.

Tim took Gibbs’ suggestion and finally hit the target.

“You need to remember to focus on what you want, and go for it,” urged Gibbs.

A blush crept across Tim’s face as he took another shot.

While they were still on the field, Jimmy jogged over to Gibbs and handed him a sealed letter. Tim and Tony watched his expression as he broke the seal and read the note.

“Is it word from my father?” Tony asked.

“It is.”

“It is about time.”

“He says if we truly have you, we are to send the family signet ring to him as proof.”

Tony was taken aback. “The family ring? He never gave it to me.”

“Are you certain it was not carried off by your packhorse?” Gibbs asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He truly never gave it to me. The family tradition was to pass the ring from father to son on the son’s twenty-first birthday. When the time came for me to receive it, my father said he had lost the ring in battle.”

“Then why would he ask for it?”

“If you will allow me a bit of parchment, ink and a quill, I will write back. That will prove to him that you have me and that I am alive and well.”

Gibbs nodded his approval. Tony followed Jimmy back to camp and was led before Friar Duck to request supplies.

Tony quickly penned a message:

“ _His Royal Highness, King Anthony,_

_Father, you well know that I never received the family signet ring. You have previously stated that it was lost to you in battle. I am being held and cared for, along with my squire, Timothy. We are promised to be released once you send the ransom. Please do so immediately._

_Your son,  
Prince Anthony_ ”

 

Gibbs agreed to send the letter out by messenger.

During the evening meal, Tony did not laugh and enjoy the evening entertainment as he had on previous nights. As the moon rose in the sky, Gibbs stood and offered his hand to Tony, then led him back to the cottage.

“You are troubled.”

Looking up, Tony stared into Gibbs’ eyes. “I do not understand my father’s reply. I swear he never gave the ring to me. It is difficult to think he is not trying harder to secure my release.”

“Perhaps he does not believe we hold you or he fears you are already dead.”

“I am his only son. He should at least try.”

“This is how negotiations go,” Gibbs assured him. “He was fishing for the truth, whether we had you and if you were still alive. Your letter should convince him. How many knew the tale of the ring?”

“Everyone. The ring had been passed on for generations when the son turns twenty-one. At my twenty-first birthday, he told the tale at the celebration, that he had lost the ring in battle.”

“He did not replace it with another?” asked Gibbs.

“That was the common thought, that if he had lost the original, he should commission another ring to be made. It was suggested, he said he would, but he never did.”

“I wonder why?”

“I have never told this to another. Not even Tim. I went to see him in his quarters one day and I swear he had that very ring on. When he saw I was there, he hid it from my eyes. I never understood why.”

“Perhaps he treasures the ring and did not want to give it up,” Gibbs suggested.

“Then he treasures that ring more than he treasures his son,” replied Tony.

“He may believe it has special powers.”

“It is said that on his twenty-first birthday, when he received the ring, he stated, _‘With this ring, I could rule the world’_. Many swear they saw the ring on his finger after the battle when he said he lost it.”

“And no one called him on it?”

“He never said it was lost until my twenty-first birthday. It was then he said he had lost it months earlier in a battle. Any man who disagrees with my father or calls him a liar may soon find his head separated from his shoulders. My father can be a difficult man.”

“As can mine. We do not always agree,” said Gibbs.

“But if someone held you hostage, he would do everything he could to gain your release. Would he not?”

Gibbs rubbed his chin. “I do not know. I never planned on being taken alive. By anyone.”

“Nor did I.”

“You could have fought.”

“I was outnumbered,” Tony said. “The odds were not in my favor.”

“I would have fought until my dying breath.”

“Perhaps my father is disappointed that I was captured. Maybe he is ashamed that I am his son.”

Reaching over, Gibbs rubbed Tony’s shoulder. “We shall not pass judgment until we receive his next response.”

Gibbs spooned close behind Tony in bed. Tim returned to the cottage late and saw the pair snuggled together. Pausing at the doorway, he looked back outside, into the darkness.

“You will never get past Ziva,” Gibbs said. “Close the door and come to bed.”

Tim sighed deeply, wondering how Gibbs always seemed to know everything he was thinking. After shedding his clothing, he used a towel and the water left out on the table to clean himself before climbing into the far side of the bed.

“What will you do with us if the King refuses to pay the ransom?” he whispered.

“We will cross that bridge when it presents itself. Get some rest.”

Two days went by and Gibbs decided it was time to move his team to another outpost. Tony’s moping was obvious to everyone. Gibbs assigned him tasks to help pack up items for the move. Tim stayed close at his side.

“Perhaps we can get away during the move?” Tim suggested at a whisper.

“What is the point?” questioned Tony.

“What do you mean? Do you desire to be their prisoner for the remainder of your life?”

“My father is doing nothing to negotiate our return. If he does not care that I am held captive, then why should I?”

“I am certain he and his advisors are discussing the best way to bargain our safe return. They will need to come to terms on how to deliver the ransom and guarantee our safe release.”

Tony was not convinced. Working steadily, he did everything he was asked, packing some items and storing away others. 

Once everything was ready, Gibbs rode up to him and offered his hand. “You may ride with me, if you wish.”

Tony reached for his hand and settled behind Gibbs in the saddle. Another of Gibbs’ men allowed Tim to ride with him. 

As they began their journey, Tony saw that the women and children were on foot and headed down a different trail.

“Where are they going?” he asked.

“There is a footpath that is shorter, but it is not meant for horses and wagons. Those without horses will walk. They will hide their trail. We will ride on the road for a while. It is more dangerous, but we have enough men to fight if we must. When we turn off the main road, we will disguise the number of horses that have made the journey.”

“You do this each time you move?”

“Yes, it is the only way to stay safe and unseen.”

“How do they not find your cooking fires?”

“We have sentries watching the trails. If anyone comes too close, we douse the flames. We also camp near the edge of the forests. At a distance there would be no way to distinguish smoke coming from a farmhouse or from the edge of the forest.”

“Interesting.”

They traveled for several hours before approaching a farmhouse. Gibbs stopped at the house to speak with the farmer. The man was older than Gibbs. A younger, dark-haired woman stepped out of the home and greeted Gibbs as a small girl ran across the yard and into Gibbs’ arms. The others waited as Gibbs spoke to the landowner for several minutes.

Tony had dismounted and was holding the reins of Gibbs’ horse. “Your next encampment is near?”

“Just across a couple of fields,” Gibbs replied.

“You do not fear Tim and I will take off since we can find this road?”

“We were not far from the road before. How do you think Ducky gets a wagon to us?”

Gibbs held his hand to help Tony remount, then started his horse off at a trot. A couple minutes later, they rode into another encampment, which was surprisingly similar to the one they had left.

“It is easier on everyone that each of the outposts is as identical as possible,” explained Gibbs. “We all know where to find things. It should help with Timothy’s need for routines.”

“I am certain McSquire will appreciate that.”

The men began stabling the animals and airing out the cottages. A couple hours later, the women and children arrived and assisted with the chores.

“How do you decide when to move?”

“We do not stay in one place longer than a month. If the sheriff thinks he has figured out the area we are in, we are gone before he rounds up his men to come find us.”

“The messenger you sent to take word to my father, will he know to find you here?”

“It is not that simple. We cannot send someone who could easily be followed. The return message will be passed through several hands before it comes to us. The messenger will not pick it up and bring it here until he is certain he is not being followed. It is always a different messenger who drops off the message than the one who brings the reply.”

Tony nodded his head. After the evening meal Tony and Tim made their way toward the cottage that bore Gibbs’ mark. Inside they found another large hand-carved bed frame. 

“Feels like home,” Tony said with a smile.

“I am glad to see that something cheers you up,” said Tim.

While Gibbs was busy putting the encampment in order, Tim and Tony took the empty bed coverings and filled them with hay and wild grasses. Once they felt it was suitably filled, they carried it together back to Gibbs’ cottage, settling it into the bed frame.

When they climbed into bed, Tony placed his hand at the back of Tim’s neck and leaned over to kiss him. Pushing back after the kiss, he rested his forehead against Tim’s. “I am glad you are with me. I am not glad you were captured, but I am glad that I am not alone.”

“I knew what you meant,” Tim replied.

“If I ask you something, will you answer honestly?”

“Of course.”

“Gibbs said you look at me as if you want me to fornicate with you.”

“What?” Tim asked.

“You heard what I said. Do you want me? In that way? I would like an honest answer as I will not ask you again. It is okay either way.”

Tim thought for a minute and pressed his hand flat against Tony’s bare chest, rubbing in small circles. “Yes,” he whispered. “I have always wanted to be with you. But I know you want to be with Gibbs.”

“One does not preclude the other,” Tony said as he left a trail of kisses down Tim’s cheek.

“I have always loved you,” Tim whispered. “Since the day I first saw you, I have willingly dedicated my life to serving you.”

Tony pulled Tim close, cupping the cheeks of his ass as they kissed. 

Gibbs smiled when he returned to find the two younger men wrapped in each other’s arms and kissing passionately. In the light of a single lamp, he undressed as he watched the pair, and washed himself before climbing into bed naked. Spooning up behind Tony, he licked the back of his neck, nuzzling against his hair.

Two days later, Friar Duck and Jimmy arrived in the encampment with another load of wine, ale, water and grains. Gibbs and Ducky walked a short distance and chatted as Jimmy began unloading the goods. Tony and Tim approached to assist.

Jimmy smiled at the pair. “I appreciate the help. I did not think this was the sort of thing a prince would do.”

Tony shrugged. “I am no better than the next man. Gibbs has made sure we have a bed to sleep in and food to eat. It is only fair we do our share of the communal work.”

Tim nodded toward Gibbs and Friar Duck. “What do you think they are discussing? Their expressions are troubled.”

Jimmy lowered his voice. “The King has refused to pay any ransom to Gibbs. Instead, he increased the price on Gibbs’ head.”

“He what?” Tony asked. Before Jimmy could stammer out any answer, Tony walked over to join Gibbs and Ducky. “My father has refused to pay for my release?”

Friar Duck nodded slowly. “He said he will not deal with a criminal.”

“He would condemn me to death?”

“I have not threatened your life,” Gibbs said. “In fact, you are free to go.”

“What?”

“We sought to get a ransom, more funds for our cause. Since your father has made it clear he will not pay anything, there is no reason to keep you here. We gambled and lost.”

“I will not leave,” Tony informed him. “He has made it clear he does not value the life of his only son. I will not return to him.”

Gibbs took a few steps away, threading his fingers through his hair. “It is over. It is time you return to your castle.”

“Have you learned nothing about me, Gibbs? I do not need to live a life of wealth. If my father does not want me back, then why should I return to him?”

“It is your place in this life. If you do not return, who will take over the throne when King Anthony passes? If you are there, you can make changes. You can make a difference.”

“I believe in your cause. I will stay and help as best I can,” Tony offered. “If my father truly cares at all for his son, he will give orders not to kill any of your followers, lest I am killed by accident or for revenge.”

“I cannot guarantee your safety,” warned Gibbs.

“I have not asked you to.”

“The King may put a price on your head as he has mine.”

“I wish to protect you,” Tony insisted. “I have become rather fond of your head.”

“Do you not think you can do more good for the poor if you return to the castle?”

“I cannot return knowing my father places such little value on his son’s life. I cannot face his selfishness anymore. The only thing I would like from the castle is my horse.”

“If you are determined to walk this path with me, you shall need a good horse,” Gibbs agreed.


	8. A Fork In The Road

Tony returned to Tim and waved for him to follow. “Jimmy, which path leads to the archery range?”

Jimmy pointed to one of the trails.

Tim scrambled to catch up with Tony. “Are we escaping?” he asked.

As they reached the clearing, Tony turned around sharply. “No. In fact, Gibbs has given us permission to leave.”

“He is letting us go? We are leaving now?”

Tony sighed deeply, choking back the tears that threatened to fall. “Tim, my father has refused to pay any ransom for us. He does not value my life at all.”

Tim placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “You know that is not true.”

“It is true. If he cared for me, he would do everything he could to secure my safe return. He has not. All he did was increase the price on Gibbs’ head.”

“Then if you care for Gibbs, you should leave,” Tim suggested.

“Why?”

“If he does not have you, he may be less of a target.”

“The wealthy complain constantly about being robbed by Gibbs. Neither my father, nor Sheriff Vance, will stop hunting him until he is captured.”

“Then what is it you plan to do?” asked Tim. 

“I believe in his cause.”

“As a prince, you can voice your opinions in your father’s court.”

“My father means to keep his wealth. He cares for nothing else.”

The pair paused their conversation as they saw Gibbs and Friar Duck approaching from across the field.

“You should go back to the castle,” said Gibbs. “It will be safer for you there. You are not meant for this life.”

Tony shook his head. “You cannot force me to return. If you will not allow me to stay, then Tim and I will survive on our own.”

“In the forest?”

“Sure. We can hunt for food.”

“You do not have what it takes to survive, Prince.”

“You said yourself that I am a quick learner,” Tony said as he walked a few paces, looking out over the field.

“You may stay, but I think you should consider returning to the castle.”

Turning, Tony faced Gibbs. “How can I?”

“Tell them you escaped when our sentries fell asleep.”

“I cannot live a lie. I cannot return to the castle knowing my father does not find me worthy enough to save.”

Tim walked over to Tony and stood by his side. “If you wish to retrieve your horse, it will require that we return to the castle.”

Friar Duck cleared his throat. “I can take you back in the wagon. I will tell your father than I came upon you walking on the road and simply gave you a lift back to the castle after you escaped.”

Tim nodded. “We can gather anything we wish to take with us, then saddle our horses and leave.”

Tony looked back and forth between the men. “And you think he will allow me to leave the castle ever again without a score of armed guards?”

“Could you ride away during a hunt?” questioned Gibbs.

“We would not be able to bring much clothing,” Tony replied.

“You could stash it near the kitchen in the castle,” suggested Ducky. “Abby can bring it to me when I deliver the wine and I will bring it back here.”

“I know all the corridors that lead to the kitchen,” said Tim. “I can traverse the passageways without being seen.”

Tony nodded. “No one would suspect Abby. She works in the kitchen and comes and goes.”

“I talk to her on occasion,” Ducky said. “It would not raise suspicion. Perhaps she can load your things into an empty wine barrel. I pick them up all the time.”

“I do not wish for all my things to be soaked in wine,” Tony said doubtfully.

Friar Duck smiled. “I am trusted at the castle. We can take in a dry, empty barrel, which Abby can pack with your things. Then we will return it to the wagon along with the other empty barrels. They will only count the barrels I leave behind.”

“Abby is liked and trusted by the chefs,” Tim said. “The kitchen is a busy place. If she offered to count the wine barrels, they may allow it.”

Ducky and Gibbs smiled at each other. 

“Go back,” said Gibbs. “It is likely they will arrange a celebratory banquet. Surely it is known that you were captured. Your father could not deny you a celebration upon your return. There will be many people coming and going.”

“I will be asked to deliver extra wine and ale,” said Ducky. “Abby will be there. If the chefs are preparing a banquet, the kitchen will be busier than normal. There will be much drinking and you should be able to slip out to the stables and get your horses.”

“We can tell the guards you wish to go for a moonlight ride,” suggested Tim. “Even if they insist on guards coming with us, we can go for a canter and lose them in the darkness of the night.”

Friar Duck nodded at Gibbs. “I will show them the road to Mike’s farm. He can show them the path from the field or point them to this one.”

“Are you certain you wish to do this?” Gibbs asked.

Tony nodded. “It is where my heart lies.”

The group worked on finalizing their plans over the next few days. At Gibbs’ suggestion, Tim and Tony stopped shaving and bathing. Gibbs wrapped ropes around their wrists and ankles tightly enough to leave marks.

Early one morning, Gibbs woke Tim and Tony, hugged them and escorted them through the archery field to Mike’s farm. From there, they were pointed toward the road and began walking back toward the castle.

They had only been gone for two hours when Tony sat down at the side of the road.

“We should keep walking,” Tim urged.

“Why? Friar Duck will be by eventually to give us a ride.”

“Do you not wish to be convincing? We should continue walking so we have plenty of dust on our clothing, and wear on our shoes.”

Reaching his hand down, Tim assisted Tony to his feet.

“My stomach grumbles,” said Tony.

“We should arrive hungry.”

“They could have given us a little bit of food for the journey.”

“We are supposed to have escaped.”

“We could have stolen food,” Tony argued.

“It is more believable if we arrive dirty and hungry.”

They continued down the road for another three hours before Friar Duck and Jimmy came upon them.

“I was beginning to think we took a wrong turn,” Tony said as he gladly climbed aboard the wagon.

“We thought it best to give you time to look the part,” the Friar explained.

The small group pulled over to the side of the road before it was dark. Jimmy built a small fire to keep them warm as Friar Duck divided a meager ration of cheese and bread, passing a portion to each of the men.

Tony chewed the bread slowly. “I must admit, I am looking forward to a banquet in the castle.”

“No one will think less of you if you decide to remain at the castle,” said Tim.

Shaking his head slowly, Tony responded, “I cannot stay, knowing how little my father thinks of me. It is obvious that I am not the son he desires to have.”

“Your father can be a difficult man,” said Friar Duck. “He is the King. It is his prerogative to be a difficult man.”

“And he is not known to change his mind,” Tony added.

“Not likely,” Ducky agreed.

“That is why I cannot stay. He will welcome me back and throw the expected banquet. But my feelings have changed for him. He will see my thoughts in my eyes. He desires to hold onto his power even if he has to have me killed. I would not feel safe.”

The group finished their meal in silence and settled into a restless sleep.

The next morning, Jimmy harnessed the horses and the group set out at a steady trot. Tony did his best to try to nap as he leaned against an empty wine barrel. Tim watched the road from the back of the wagon. As they continued their journey, he made mental notes of the landmarks they passed.

Later in the afternoon, as they pulled up to the castle gate, Friar Duck excitedly told the guards he had found Prince Anthony and his squire trudging along at the side of the road.

“It is truly them,” he insisted.

The guards approached the wagon and looked in at Tony, sound asleep in the back. The first guard looked at the second. “Go and tell them inside the castle!”

As the second guard ran off to deliver his message, the first guard directed them to drive the wagon into the courtyard. He then reached into the wagon and shook the Prince.

“It is good to see you home, Your Highness,” he said. “Can you walk on your own?”

“I am not certain,” Tony replied groggily. “Where am I?”

“You are back within the castle walls where you belong,” the guard informed him.

Within minutes, several other guards and knights from the castle had arrived in the courtyard. A litter was summoned to carry Tony to his suite. The castle was soon bustling with news of his return. Tim had to follow the procession on foot, watching as they carefully put Tony down and discussed what to do next. 

Sir Tobias arrived and quickly sent several of the men to retrieve buckets of water to be warmed over the fire before being dumped into the tub. 

“Are you well, Prince? Did they harm you at all?” Fornell questioned.

Tony held out his wrists that still showed red marks. 

“We will get you cleaned up in no time,” he promised.

Tim sat in a chair as Fornell sent guards to the kitchen to retrieve food and sent another to fetch the royal physician.

As the first few gallons of water were warmed, Sir Tobias assisted Tony in undressing and getting into the tub. 

“We shall get you cleaned up before your father sees you,” he said. Another guard handed Fornell some soap and a shaving blade.

After a long soak in the tub, Tony was assisted into a dressing gown and over to his bed to be checked out by the physician, who suggested a good, long rest.

Tim watched as Tony was fussed over, but allowed himself to reach for the food. “I missed this,” he said as he ate.

After another hour, King Anthony himself made a visit to the suite. He had Tim wake Tony, then frowned when he saw how dirty Tim was.

“Squire, perhaps you should tend to yourself while I speak to my son.”

Tim eyed the tub Tony had used. “I thought it best I wait until there were fewer people around.”

“I believe everyone in this room would be happier if you bathed.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

As all attention was focused on Tony, Tim quietly undressed and slipped into the tub.

King Anthony sent everyone away, other than Tim and Sir Tobias.

“I am please you have returned,” he said.

Tony blinked his eyes. “It is good to be home.”

“Did Gibbs release you?”

“Squire Timothy was able to work his hands out of his bindings and then assisted in releasing me. We escaped under the darkness of night.”

“That Gibbs is a scoundrel! I paid the ransom and he refused to release you. I was certain he had killed you.”

“They said you never paid the ransom.”

“Who will you choose to believe? Those criminals in the forest or your father, the King?”

Tony reached out, grabbing his father’s hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss it. “I was sure you would not leave me in their wretched hands.”

“I would not. I have sent scores of soldiers searching for you. I gave those thieves everything they asked for in hopes they would return you to me in good health. I could not face losing my only son.”

“I am pleased Timothy was able to guide me back to the castle.”

“Is it not his fault that you were captured? It is his duty to lay down his life to protect you,” the King growled angrily.

Tony raised his hand and shook his head. “They cast a net and captured me and Victory. They had grabbed hold of Weatherby’s reins and Tim still jumped down and positioned himself between me and the thieves. I saw him fight many of them off with his sword until one threw a rock to his head and knocked him out. I feared he had died trying to protect me. After he fell, I begged for them not to hurt him.”

“And they captured you and set your horses free?”

“Yes. They said when the horses reached the castle, you would know I was being held hostage.”

“He is a devious man, this Gibbs. We shall hunt him down and have him hanged.”

“I suppose Sheriff Vance already has his men out looking for him.”

“Absolutely!”

Once they were left alone, Tim joined Tony in the bed. 

“Do you think Gibbs took the ransom money that your father says he sent?” Tim asked at a whisper.

Blinking his eyes open, Tony rolled over to face Tim. “No. He paid no ransom.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“My father is the devious man. Friar Duck believes in Gibbs. The whole letter about the signet ring, which my father knows he never gave to me. And the fact that Gibbs released us anyway.”

“If your father had paid the ransom, Gibbs would have released you. Is it possible that is what happened, but he said your father refused to pay to gain your allegiance?”

“I saw only truth in Gibbs’ eyes. What does he gain by lying to me?” asked Tony.

“He turns you against your father. That puts a wedge between the King and the Prince.”

“Next time father is in court, I intend to go to his suite and locate the ring. That is all the truth I need.”

“You would believe a thief’s word over your father’s?” Tim questioned.

“I have heard my father lie quite convincingly. I have no proof that Gibbs has ever lied to me, or in my presence.”

“You truly mean to give this all up? For him?”

“For him and for his cause. What he says and does makes sense to me. More than what my father says.”

“Could you not serve him as well from within the castle walls?”

Tony smiled. “You have missed the fine food and soft bed?”

“I am only thinking of you, my Prince. If you leave the protection of the castle and throw your lot in with Gibbs, you would suffer the worst torture and death as a traitor to your father and to the kingdom, if you were ever caught.”

“Then I suppose we must do all we can to not get caught,” replied Tony.


	9. Beyond The Castle Walls

Several days later, the court had convinced King Anthony to hold a grand ball to honor of the Prince’s return. Many guests were invited and much food was prepared. A continuous stream of maidens carried platter after platter into the banquet room, along with pitchers of wine and ale.

Musicians played as the guests ate, and some stepped forward to dance. Finally the King rose to his feet, toasting the return of his son. Prince Anthony smiled throughout the festivities, although he was fuming inside. 

Several days earlier, he had located the signet ring in his father’s chambers. He had not taken it in case it was missed. He had sent Tim to review the books kept by the royal accountant under the guise that Tim should learn such things if he was to one day be the Prince’s chief advisor. There was no entry disclosing any amount of ransom to be paid to anyone.

“Are you convinced of my father’s dishonesty now?” Tony had asked softly.

Tim only nodded in response.

The pair had spent many nights perfecting their plans. Tim and Abby met in a rarely used passageway near the kitchen. A week before the banquet, Jimmy and Friar Duck had hidden a couple clean barrels outside the kitchen. Tim began bringing armfuls of clothing and personal items for Abby to hide inside the barrels.

The night of the banquet, Jimmy and Friar Duck brought the wagon around to drop off more wine and ale.

“This is not a night to run dry,” the Friar stated.

With everyone in the castle focused on the banquet, Jimmy retrieved the barrels filled with Tony and Tim’s belongings and loaded them onto the wagon. He then stuck to the shadows and made his way to the stables where he saddled Victory and Chester, then covered the saddles with blankets. Afterward, he returned to the wagon and waited. He stood watch while Ducky napped.

Well into the night, Prince Anthony joined the dancers on the floor and nodded for Tim to join him. As there was normally no shortage of women wanting to dance with the Prince, they had no issue finding partners. 

As each dance ended, everyone paused to applaud the musicians and most changed partners. After five dances, Tony nodded to Tim and they skirted the edge of the banquet hall, chatting with the attendees. Once they reached the far end, they ducked behind a large tapestry hiding a door.

The pair moved quickly. Tony’s first stop was his father’s chambers where he took the signet ring from its hiding spot. 

“It was mine all these years, whether he gave it to me or not,” he said.

“It will only prove to your father that you left of your own free will. Who else would have known to look for that ring?” warned Tim.

“It does not matter. It is rightfully mine and I should have it.”

Tim led the way through several dark passageways. Abby met them near the kitchen, giving them each a hug and a dark cloak. The pair continued into the courtyard between the kitchen and the stables. When Jimmy saw them, he nodded and awoke Friar Duck. A few minutes later, Tim and Tony led their horses from the stables. Once mounted, they held their horses in the shadows until a few guests were leaving. They worked themselves into the crowd as they departed through the main gate.

Ducky and Jimmy soon followed with the wagon. Their intent was to slow down any of the guards that might follow Tony away from the castle, but none did.

“I do believe someone has made sure to bring the sentries plenty of ale so they are not missing out on the festivities,” Jimmy noted.

“And there is no doubt they are paying more attention to anyone coming into the castle grounds than those leaving,” added Ducky.

Tim and Tony rode swiftly into the night. When they were well away from the castle, Tony pulled Victory to a stop. 

“It is good to be reunited, my friend,” Tony said as he patted the white horse. Looking at Tim, he spoke softly, “I cannot ask you to join me in a life of crime. You said yourself that I am now a traitor to my father, and I will face the most devastating torture and death if I am ever caught.”

“I follow you willingly, my Prince.”

“There is no need. I release you from your duty. You should go back to your family.”

“My place is here, at your side.”

Tony looked deeply into Tim’s eyes. “Your family may not be safe if you are labeled an outlaw.”

“Tony, I had Abby send them word. They know they may never see me again. They understand.”

“Get off of your horse,” said Tony.

“Certainly you do not mean to leave me without a horse or supplies?”

“Do you not follow my orders willingly?”

“Of course, my Prince.”

Tony dismounted and stood before Tim. “Kneel.”

Tim took a deep breath and knelt before the Prince.

Tony drew his sword and lightly touched the blade to each of Tim’s shoulders. “I should have done this at the banquet to make it official in front of witnesses. I dub thee Sir Timothy McGee, Knight of my court.”

Tim smiled, rose to his feet and hugged Tony. 

“If I can stay alive long enough, I can still succeed to the throne when my father dies.”

“You truly think so?” Tim asked.

“I have the signet ring, our family heirloom denoting the right to rule. It should be enough for most. The people are tired of being taxed and treated poorly. I want to make a change. The common people outnumber the wealthy and they support Gibbs. With Gibbs at my side, the people will support me.”

“I hope you are correct.”

“Every time he succeeds in redistributing wealth to those in need, his legend and popularity grows. It is already said that the people do what they can to hide him and his followers from Sheriff Vance. With their aid, Gibbs has evaded capture for years.” 

“We will be labeled criminals and must hide ourselves from the sheriff.”

“I am already more popular than my father. It must be difficult to find anyone who is not related to someone that my father has ordered killed.”

Tim nodded as he remounted his horse. “This is true. He does seem to have a quick temper.”

“And he is not one to worry about anyone’s guilt or innocence.”

Once Tony remounted his horse, the pair rode throughout the night. The next morning, they found themselves on the road leading to Mike’s farm. A light rain began to fall when they were still a couple miles from the farmhouse.

“We are getting drenched,” Tim observed. “Why are you smiling?”

“It will hide our horses’ hoof prints. No one will be able to track our path.”

“Do you really think they need to? Where else would you have gone?”

Tony shrugged. “To sow my royal oats?”

“Once your father finds the ring is gone, he will know that you left of your own free will. Where else would he think you headed, if not back to Gibbs?”

“There are a thousand destinies I could have followed.”

“But the obvious path leads back to Gibbs.”

They were soaked through by the time they rode up to the house. Mike called to them from the porch. “Come in and get warm,” he said invitingly.

“I am certain we have a warm fire waiting for us nearby,” Tony replied.

“Do not be so sure,” said Mike.

Tony pulled Victory to a stop. “Have they moved on?”

“No, but they have no fires in the rain.”

“They will at least have warm blankets for us.”

“Give your horses a rest. It is obvious you have pushed them hard all night. Leyla has a nice mutton stew ready. Please, put your horses in the barn and come join us.”

Tony nodded and rode toward the barn. Minutes later, he and Tim were wrapped in blankets and eating warm food inside Mike’s house. 

“How is it that you help Gibbs, and yet, you are not in Sheriff Vance’s crosshairs?” asked Tony.

“Me? I am a simple farmer now.”

“Gibbs told me you were his first captain. You must have known Vance.”

Mike lifted Amira onto his lap. “I was once a soldier. Now I am a farmer caring for my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter. I am all they have left. Vance has stopped by to chat a few times. He does not have enough men to watch every farm.”

“He is given false leads?”

“There are many who are willing to help Gibbs. Vance is indeed given false leads to follow. Some people call Gibbs a ghost because he cannot be found.”

“He is no ghost,” said Tony. “I have felt his strong hands and warm breath.”

“He is smart. Vance cannot keep up with each move Gibbs makes. He is often months behind Gibbs and still fails to find him.”

“How long can it last?”

“Knowing Gibbs? As long as the people are willing to protect him, he will be safe.”

“Does he ever leave the kingdom?”

“If he feels he must. Although he will only take money from those he feels have taken advantage of the poor. He does not steal merely to steal.”

“A robber with a conscience?”

“A redistributor of wealth who keeps careful tabs on who is taking advantage of the poor.”

When the rain let up, Tony and Tim thanked Mike and Leyla for their hospitality, then led their horses from the barn, through a couple of fields to the archery range and finally on the path to the encampment.

They were greeted warmly as they led their horses to the stables and put them away. Gibbs met them as they were unsaddling their mounts, and gave them each a warm hug and kiss.

“I am pleased you have decided to return,” he said.

“King Anthony said he paid the ransom,” Tim blurted out.

Gibbs smiled. “Do you believe that?”

“No,” replied Tony, stepping forward to embrace Gibbs again. “I missed being with you.”

“I see you found your ring,” observed Gibbs.

“When my father dies, this will still show that I am of royal blood and have a right to sit on the throne.”

“Even after you left to throw your lot in with common criminals?” questioned Gibbs.

“I think of you neither as common nor as a criminal.”

“No? Then how do you see me?”

“You are a leader of men, Gibbs. The kingdom cannot go on as it is. It is only a matter of time until the poor realize they outnumber the wealthy and organize to change things.”

Gibbs leaned close, whispering in Tony’s ear. “That time is already here. The poor are already organizing. How do you think it is that I am protected no matter where I go?”

“So you knew it was only a matter of time before things fell apart?”

“I knew you had to make this choice on your own. If you stand with me and prove yourself, perhaps you will one day sit on a throne and rule. But is that where your heart truly lies?”

“I believe I could be a good ruler.”

“As do I. But I do not see you happy sitting in a castle day after day.”

Tony looked at the ring on his finger. “You think I should give it all up?”

“Do you not believe you already have?”

“I can win the peoples’ hearts, like you have.”

“Of this, I have no doubt,” Gibbs agreed.

“Then if I ever am entrusted by the people to be their king, I shall be a new sort of king. One who will not hide within the castle walls.”

“Then you will ride with a score of men to protect you.”

“Do you?” Tony asked.

“Absolutely. For every man you see here in the encampment, there are two or three more acting as sentries, ready to protect everyone in this camp. When I move, they move with me.”

“Then I, too, shall ride with you and offer my protection.”

“You are ready to become a robber?”

Tony smiled. “I am ready to become a redistributor of wealth. I am ready to stand by you and change the world. I have no choice, really.”

“And why is that?”

Tony wrapped his arms around Gibbs’ waist. “I have become rather fond of you. You deserve my loyalty more than my father.”

“Then perhaps we can change the world together,” said Gibbs.

“Perhaps,” Tony agreed. 

 

~END~  
24 AUG 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's all the artwork on AO3, posted by the artist: **[Art by Banbury](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4998760)**
> 
> If you enjoyed the artwork and want to send kudos or comments to Banbury directly, you may do so at the above link!


End file.
